


red roses

by gymthree



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Red Roses, Roses, Slow Burn, hanahaki byou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gymthree/pseuds/gymthree
Summary: Keith was coughing up flowers, and only few knew why.





	1. Chapter 1

It ached.

He was on the floor, and he couldn’t breathe, Keith couldn’t breathe. He was gasping violently, crying like never before, shaking, trying to find a way to get air into his lungs. A few small, wet petals were on the carpet, near his body, and he could feel more inside. It was like coughing blood, but instead of dark red liquid, he got dark red roses.

He grasped tightly onto the t-shirt fabric near his chest; it was all full. Something was wrapped around his heart and he couldn’t feel a thing, he couldn’t breathe, for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t feel blood rushing through his veins anymore, there was no warmth filling his body and keeping him alive--

A small rosebud left his lips, and it wasn’t as bad anymore.

 

-

 

“Hang on,  _ what? _ ”

Keith tangled his fingers into his hair, and sighed. He was fine when he said goodbye to his friends the night before; what  _ in hell  _ happened between that and a few hours later, shaking and crying desperately on the floor, he didn’t really know. But now, he was fucking  _ coughing rose petals  _ once every ten minutes. Lance was supposed to help, he was all Keith could get, as Hunk and Pidge were busy fixing whatever they were fixing on one of the labs, but he was  _ not  _ helping. If anything, he was making Keith feel worse.

“I’m coughing fucking flowers, Lance! I don’t know what it is, but there are roses inside of me, for fuck’s sake!” He shouted, trying not to be too loud for the news not to spread around the whole dorms. He was mad, he was hurt - holy crap, his torso was in an immense amount of pain -, he wasn’t up for Lance at the moment.

“Are you sure you didn’t eat some plants or something?” The Cuban asked, not intending to sound stupid, but he was quite lost. How was it possible, to cough flowers? How did the flowers get there? They wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere…

“Yes, Lance, I’m sure,” Keith muttered, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t as pissed now, but still annoyed. “They are just there, and I don’t know what to do…”

“Have you gone to the hospital yet?” Lance was becoming the rational one, for once. He was genuinely worried, because if he didn’t hold back from making fun of Keith and didn’t help him out, they would both get into a fight way too quickly, and their other friends weren’t there to stop them.

“No, do you think I should?”

“Obviously, mullet. If there is something wrong with your body, what you do is go to the hospital. Duh.”

“Hmph. Fine. Can you drive me?”

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” he shrugged, and smirked while Keith got his jacket and mumbled incoherent sentences and complained about his pain.

 

-

 

“What is it?”

Keith had to go home by bus, because Hunk was done before the hospital actually finished with him, and Lance left so fast he didn’t even say ‘bye’. Now, the three of his friends were sitting on his bed, and a little bag full of rose petals was laying by his side. He was too scared to even look at it, but being flower-lungs-boy was now a reality he had to accept.

“It’s some Hanahaki Disease or whatever. It’s stupid, really, and I think I might get surgery to remove it…”

“How’d you get it?,” Hunk asked, cheery. That was the question Keith feared the most, because he had contracted the illness from a  _ weakness  _ of his. Stupid, stupid Keith with his stupid, stupid feelings…

“One-sided love,” Pidge said before Keith could get to it. “Hanahaki Disease is an illness where flowers start growing on the lungs of someone who suffers from one-sided love. It is deadly, because the plants may end up clogging your respiratory system, and can only be healed by surgery or by the love not being just one-sided.”

Keith frowned, upset, almost childlike, and he could feel Hunk and Lance staring at him in shock.

“Wait, wait, wait: Keith has  _ feelings _ ? He  _ loves  _ someone?” Lance teased.

“Who is it, Keith?,” Hunk questioned, innocent. Why was he asking so many off-putting things?

“No one.”

Yeah, no one. If only no one was the name of the best student in the whole college, the most handsome guy, the sweetest person, that  _ one guy  _ everyone kinda had a crush on. Why  _ Keith  _ was cursed with the disease that made it clear, he had no idea. He just wished it would go away; it could go away if you got over your feelings, couldn’t it?

“Come on, mullet. Tell us. We’re your friends, aren’t we?”

“It’s no one. No one important. I’m gonna get surgery and everything will be normal, so just leave it--”

Pidge stood up and went towards Keith, who was sitting in the desk, fiddling with his flower bag. They took the bag and spread the petals on the carpet, got some wire out of their pocket and started making a crown out of the small red bits. They looked up at Keith, eye-measured the diameter for the accessory and sighed.

“Look, Keith. I want you to be safe and okay; we all do. You shouldn’t get surgery, because you’re going to lose the feelings and all the experience of love. You shouldn’t let it grow, because you’ll either die due to lack of air of because of the thorns. Tell us who it is, and maybe we can help you, maybe we can be matchmakers or something.”

“Oh, hell no,” Keith stood up and shook his head aggressively. If his friends tried to be matchmakers for him, that’s how the crush would stay forever unrequited. They were nice and really supportive, but when it came to love, full-on failures. Lance and Hunk should be thankful they had each other, because no one else would be able to put up with them. Pidge was extremely smart and quite mature for their age, but too much of a weeaboo and a mess. They were unable to focus on one thing if it wasn’t immediately advantageous to them and, even though they were extremely talented with machines and technology, they were a complete and utter goner when trying to understand other humans.

Keith was fine, he really was; he was going to get the surgery and get that over with. The doctor had said it took a few months for the disease to evolve completely and lead to death. Basically, what he currently had were seeds; the herb grew around his heart and ribcage, until fully developed, and then it pressed his bones until they broke and boom, he’d be dead. In around two or three weeks, he would start coughing up bigger flowers, so it’d be useful to walk around with bags to put them in. The illness wasn’t insanely common, so the surgery queue wasn’t too big, and he could manage to get an appointment probably in the next month or two. He would stay alive, safe and be okay. Good.

Hunk and Lance chattered while Pidge made a flower crown, and Keith was having an intense dialogue with himself. He needed to walk around, he needed to make himself busy; just sitting around would be completely useless, and it would make the anxiety and pain stuffed in his chest puff out, and no one wanted that.

He stood up and started making his way out of his own bedroom, ignoring his friends’ ‘where are you going’ and ‘what are you doing’ and just leaving the place. The halls were almost empty, but a few students were hanging around, and almost all doors were propped open, music and the smell of various snacks getting to him. Ignoring all of that excessively social environment, he rushed to the stairs and almost ran down them, petals fluttering all around as he tried not to completely lose his breath.

 

\- 

 

The sun made him feel warm, after hours of desperation and not knowing what the hell is going on. His patch of grass wasn’t too bad and the sunlight was just right; the sounds around him were just enough, and the amount of people studying or just hanging out was as much as he could take. He looked past the campus limits, and saw the desert. He had to sneak out and go see the stars as soon as it was night, he thought to himself. Stargazing would make it all feel better, because the sky never really changed, the constellations were always there in the same place, only Earth moved.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, appreciating the air that slowly got in and out. He was doing okay now, much better. He knew what was going on, he knew how to fix it, everything would be just fine. Why wouldn’t it, anyway.

Keith raised his head again and felt his throat closing, in an almost sadistic movement. There he was, the person who caused this immense pain to Keith. The person who should get all the flowers, all the petals, all the ivy spread around his chest.

Takashi  _ fucking  _ Shirogane.

Jesus, he looked as godly as always. He was smiling brightly and his skin was tan; his hair seemed soft, the white streak flowing with the wind, and his metal arm shined under the direct sunlight. Seeing him there, so gorgeous, so natural, so  _ Shiro _ , made a full rose form up Keith’s throat. After almost puking for nearly a minute, he managed to get the flower out, and stuck it into his pocket.

He was in too deep. Way too deep, definitely. He knew, by heart, that there was absolutely no hope for him to be cured naturally, with mutual love. Obviously, Keith wouldn’t stop hoping, but he would try to fix it medically, so that he’d never have such useless, dumb hope again. It was getting him off his tracks, off his way to success. He wouldn’t let that happen, not in a million years.

He couldn’t let it happen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you all so much for the support you've already given me, it makes me really happy and excited to keep the story going :)

Keith swung the door open and pushed it shut, a bit breathless. Taking the stairs was officially something he shouldn’t do from then on, because his lungs couldn’t take it.  _ Shit _ , how was he going to stay in the track team?

“Hey, Keith,” Pidge greeted, and stretched their arm towards him, the rose flower crown in their hands. It was quite small and messy, because Keith was mostly coughing little petals and a couple rosebuds, but it was still cute. He got the full rose from his pocket and stuck it into a little edge of wire, finishing his friend’s work. He took the flower crown and placed it on top of his hair, quickly making his way past Pidge and towards his closet.

He grabbed a rucksack and started piling up stuff on his desk, stuff he’d take to stargaze. Some snacks, water, a sky map, his motorbike keys…

“Where are you going?” His friend asked, standing up and going towards him. They didn’t think Keith would be up for going anywhere, when he had the burden of the flowers blooming inside of him.

“To the desert. I need to see the stars, you know me, and…”

“Yeah. Normal you,” they said, moving towards his bed and getting the few mechanics books they’d left there. “Well, I’m going back to my room. Are you going to class tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll text you.”

“Okay. See you, then,” Pidge said, and left the dorm.

The sun was setting orange and its light was the only thing helping Keith out with his thoughts, trying to sort out what he’d need to take, and what the hell was going on. It had been a while since he last went to the desert by himself, so he couldn’t quite remember what was extremely necessary. It wasn’t anything big, nor would he need a lot of things, because he was just going to climb on some rocks and look at the stars for some time. Oh, climbing… He was going to need a rope.

After hectic twenty minutes inside his head, he was ready, and he had to leave, or it’d be way too dark when he arrived at his spot. He put the rucksack on and rushed out of the room, almost forgetting to lock the door on his way out. Keith fixed the flower crown on his head, coughed a few petals into a plastic bag he tied on the belt around his hips, and catched the elevator. He was the only one heading to the garage; most people were just going back to their rooms or going to get dinner, not planning on leaving campus on a Sunday night.

On the other hand, Keith was particularly desperate to leave the place. When he walked around those halls and buildings, so many things haunted him, fights that got him in a lot of trouble, and people he’d never reach. The pressure was too much, he had to always be the best student in his class, the best son, the best friend, the best runner… And now he was  _ sick _ \- both literally and figuratively.

He rushed towards his motorcycle as soon as he arrived on the lowest level of the five-store dormitory, climbed on it and turned it on. The engine roared underneath him and he felt alive again.

As Keith rode along the street that cut through campus, he couldn’t feel any flowers, any petals inside of him. The wind hit him violently, but the sensation of that was  _ fantastic.  _ He could breathe, around him there was fast, cold air, and it just felt so right. Like nothing had ever happened, like no one had ever been there; as if all that was supposed to exist was Keith, riding his motorcycle until the end of time.

It didn’t take long for him to actually be in the desert, but his spot was quite far away. There was an abandoned cabin in the middle of the area, and knowing it existed was, in fact, one of the reasons he’d chosen the Garrison over other schools. He seemed to be the only person knowing about the small house, and having a getaway like that gave the school an infinite bonus when he had to pick one of his options.

After around forty-five minutes of a comfortable speed and no need for coughing, he arrived, and parked the motorbike near the shed, next to the cabin, and left his rucksack there; after looking around, he noticed he wouldn’t even need the rope to climb any sort of rocks - that would be a small problem, actually, because he’d probably get breathless and start vomiting flower petals -, because a short sand hill was right there, in front of the cottage, and it was high enough for the view to be increased. Just enough.

And so he lied down, the sky turning purple above his head, flowers blooming inside his ribcage, the world in a deep silence, letting him mourn the death of peace. He couldn’t stop attending classes, so his disease would probably spread around, and everyone would know… Basically, he was going to become “Flowerboy Who’s Crushing Shiro” or something like that. Hiding something like his illness would be difficult, so he wasn’t even going to try. If possible, not make clear who was it that caused the disease, but let people know that yup, he was coughing up flowers.

 

-

 

He sat there for almost an hour in silence, thinking, watching the sky change color until that deep dark blue, basically black. The stars seemed brighter than usual because he was looking directly at them, and he felt at home. It was like being a kid again, stuck all day in the orphanage, but running away to the observatory at night. He always got back before anyone noticed - no one ever noticed if he was gone -, but he had the privilege of spending nights looking at the stars, just like he was right now.

It felt right. More than anything, being there felt right.

Keith heard a small noise near him and, instantly, he sat up and looked around. There was a silhouette leaving the cabin.  _ Shit, there’s someone who also knows about this place, shit, shit… _

As soon as the person came to light and he could see their face, a huge rose started growing in his throat, and he stopped breathing.

Basically, Keith  _ graciously  _ fell back on the pile of sand.

Luckily, he’d learned how to get the flowers out when they took up too much space: he pressed his hands against his neck until it popped out, and then he just needed a bunch of water to feel okay again. He coughed up the rose and took a deep breath while he heard Shiro rush towards him, worried. Petals started coming up like crazy, floating around them, not falling on the ground even though there was no wind to keep them up. Well, the disease is already insanity just by flowers blooming inside of someone, Keith thought, so it didn’t surprise him too much that they could have zero-G when the loved one is around. Shiro seemed shocked, though.

“Hey, are you okay?” He leaned over and got closer to Keith, who fought desperately against the plant that was trying really hard to kill him right there.

“Yeah- Just- Hang on--”

He sat down and gently pushed Shiro away, coughing like crazy, and focusing on making the bloody petals fall. They did, and a mess of sloppy wet flowers came out of his mouth. He breathed deeply for almost a minute, both the boys in complete silence, and felt better. Not okay, because there was an inhuman pain in his chest, but better than a few minutes before, when he was sure he was about to die.

“Whoa. That was… Awful,” he said, quietly.

“What was that?” Shiro asked, trying to stay as calm as Keith was managing to be.

“I have an illness… It’s nothing. I’m getting it fixed soon.”

“Okay, but… Did you eat flowers and now you’re sick?” Shiro chuckled, and Keith spat out another rose. “What the hell is going on, buddy?”

_ Buddy. _

“It’s not important, really… And no, I didn’t eat flowers. They’re growing inside my lungs.”

“Wait, what? How?”

Keith wished he knew.

“No idea.”

“Hah, I guess medicine can’t explain it all, in the end… Hope you get better soon.”

“Yeah, me too.” It’s on you for me to get better, he thought. Shiro was the only one who could make him be healthy again, without going through surgery.

They held a comfortable silence for a few minutes, with no need for interruptions. Keith was trying to not cough entire roses, and that required all his focus. He could feel Shiro breathing, he could hear him when he shifted positions and kneeled on the sand, he was totally aware of the body inches from his. He enjoyed that situation, but it made him ache even more, because the flowers weren’t stopping.

“So, I got to go,” the older guy said, standing up and smiling. Keith raised his head and watched him as he started to walk away. “It’s late, and it’s gonna be even later when I get to my dorm… I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

Shiro walked away, and the petals started coming with less speed. Fine, random encounters with his crush were not going to be good for him if he wanted to stay alive until he got surgery and removed the plant from his lungs, and that made him quite sad, because he loved when he didn’t expect to, but saw Shiro. Well, he loved not having  _ fucking  _ flowers blooming inside of him, but he couldn’t live that life anymore. He’d just have to deal with it.

He stood up and shook his jacket, pants and hair, trying to get rid of all the sand that got stuck in them. Only then, he noticed he’d lost the flower crown Pidge had made, probably while he was riding his motorcycle. Damn. Well, nothing could be done over that, and he was probably not going to stop coughing flowers, so there’d be more crowns.

Keith walked back to his motorcycle and took a deep breath before climbing on it and switching it on. He had sorted out his head a bit, as much as possible. He’d be okay. He was going to get surgery, and his life would get back to normal. No stupid feelings getting on the way of his life. Things were going to be okay.

At least, he really hoped they would.


	3. Chapter 3

It was awfully dark outside and terribly late when Keith finally got to his dorm, and he felt tired. His chest was in an immense amount of pain and his head had started aching too. He for sure wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep, so skipping class was a given.

He took his shirt off and looked at himself in the mirror, sighing. His ribs seemed to be pressing against his skin, and the area was red and full of little bumps - probably the stem of the roses. He coughed and a series of rosebuds came flying down to the ground. The flowers were already growing? Shit, he’d need to schedule the surgery quick. He inhaled and exhaled, feeling the weight of the disease pushing his body down.

As he promised, he sent a quick text to Pidge just to tell them that he wasn’t up for school and he wasn’t going, and then he proceeded to lie down in bed. The sheets were a mess, and the room was warm, so Keith decided to just lay on top of them. Pieces of moonlight snuck in through the window, and shined bright right on the patch of carpet where the first petals were sitting, waiting for someone to collect them and throw them away. They were a silent reminder; Keith wasn’t fine, he was weak, he was sick.

With his lungs blooming in infinite roses, he managed to fall asleep.

 

-

 

“Uggh…”

Keith rolled around and covered his head with his pillow. The sun was hitting his legs and it was warm. Too warm. He wasn’t in a good mood and he didn’t want any sunlight.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. A quick glance towards the alarm clock on his bedside table made him sigh - it was almost 11 AM. He was way too late for breakfast, and a bit too early for lunch, and both those facts weren’t nice, as he felt quite hungry. For a second, he’d forgotten about the flowers in his chest, but an urge to cough climbed up his throat, and a small rose left his lips, not as sloppy as the petals used to be. It was pretty cute, all red and soft. If only it wasn’t the reason for the pain he was feeling and the risk of death he was suffering, he’d maybe appreciate it.

His phone buzzed and he looked back, at the text notification on his screen. It was from Lance; he wanted to know if Keith was up yet. He replied with a short ‘yes’, and the response to that came quickly. Lance, Hunk and Pidge were going to his dorm to check up on him, and they’d be there in ten minutes.

Almost falling flat on the floor, he rolled off the bed and picked up his shirt from the ground, putting it back on. He fixed his sheets, closed his closet door and walked over to the bathroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, not giving a damn about the mess that his hair was, because it was always a bit chaotic.

Not long after, there were knocks on the door, and Keith welcomed his friends into the room.

“Hey, Flowerboy,” Lance grinned, clearly happy to be able to tease Keith with something other than ‘mullet’. “Ready to tell us who’s blooming that sad little one-sided love in that sad little heart?”

“Fuck off, Lance,” he rolled his eyes, and jumped back on bed, sitting lazily and yawning again, a few rosebuds following.

“Oh, you’ve already moved on from petals?” Pidge asked, approaching him and picking up the flowers. “You’re lucky your roses don’t have thorns, at least not yet.”

“Yeah, I’m super lucky,” he sarcastically replied, and his friend glared at him, annoyed.

“Keith, you’re already in this. Too late to complain.”

“I know. It’s upsetting, you can’t deny that. I have the right to complain sometimes,” he shrugged.

Pidge agreed quietly and got some of their astrophysics books out of their bag. “Look, I thought that maybe you’d want to know what we did in class today--”

“Not really, Pidge,” he frowned. “I’m tired and my head hurts - let’s not even get to my chest. I want to forget classes and responsibilities for a bit. I still have so much to sort out, I need to call the hospital and schedule my surgery appointment--”

“You’re getting surgery?” Hunk raised his head. “Naw, man, you shouldn’t. Feelings are important! You can’t just live off of your rational self.”

“I’m just removing the crush, Hunk,” Keith explained. “I’ll still have feelings, yeah?”

“Still! Unrequited love is important for a person’s growth. Don’t get surgery!”

“Dude, if I don’t get surgery I will die.”

“Not necessarily,” Pidge pointed out. “There’s still the chance of your love being reciprocated.”

Keith smiled, his face softly sad, and shook his head.

“No. Seriously, these feelings cannot become mutual, I assure you. Just trust me, guys. I’m getting surgery, and I’ll be okay.”

Pidge sighed, and with a simple look, stopped Hunk and Lance from saying anything else. Keith seemed to have disappointed them, being so decided over something that, from their point of view, was going to be bad for him. But it was his life and his body, he chose what he wanted to do with both things. If he wanted to get surgery and remove the emotions that were getting in his way, he would. If he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t. It was simple, and completely up to him.

 

-

 

The four of them were on their way to get lunch, not long after 12 PM. They now chatted lightly, not minding nor giving a lot of attention to the flowers Keith coughed here and there. He was wearing a new flower crown Pidge had made him, now with tons of rosebuds and a few small roses. It surely looked much better than the first one, which was basically petals stuck into pieces of wire.

Keith felt much better now that they weren’t focusing on his disease, or anything related to that. It was almost, nearly, as if things were back to normal. His body was still in pain, but he could pretend that only had to do with some track practice - he could pretend he could still be part of the track team -, and not some crazy illness caused by love.

They got to the cafeteria and started piling up food in their trays, still talking to each other, but not as much anymore. Hunk was busy trying to not get too much food, or it wouldn’t fit in his tray, and pick only the best. Lance was telling them crappy puns and forced jokes, and everyone just shook their heads in response - except for his boyfriend, who sometimes laughed. Pidge was trying to contribute to the conversation, but their comebacks and facts were always too formal and clever for the situation, and that actually made the others laugh. Keith was in silence, randomly getting food and coughing into his bag. He felt good, but it was never very much of his character to show his emotions too much.

After everyone had finished picking their lunch, the friends walked over to the dining hall and sat down at their table. The mood was still light, very chilled, and Keith couldn’t be gladder about it. His flower crown fell a bit to the side, and he fixed it, relaxed. Before eating, he coughed up a few roses, and smiled to his friends.

That is, until he noticed the chatter building up around him.

Quiet little comments, like “what the fuck”, “is he coughing flowers?” and “oh my God”. He knew they were about him, he knew everyone was staring, he knew he’d unintentionally brought attention to himself. His friends noticed, too, and looked at him to see how he was reacting. He was biting his bottom lip, trying to not to let his insecurity show. Instead, he grabbed one of his sandwiches and left the dining hall, walking straight back to his room.

As soon as he was in the safety and loneliness of his dorm, door locked and body weak, Keith sat down on his bed, and breathed in deeply. Tears threatened to come out, and he coughed desperately. A whirling mess of roses went flying down to the ground, and a couple small teardrops followed.

He shouldn’t care so much about what other people thought; he was thinking the same things they were saying when he’d just found out about the disease, wasn’t he? Why was he reacting like that, then? It didn’t make sense. He was expecting everyone to be surprised at his brand new condition, so why was he crying?

 

-

 

_ “Keith! Keith, open the door!” _

He ignored Pidge, who knocked violently on the door, probably accompanied by Lance and Hunk. He didn’t want to see them right now. He didn’t want to see anyone.

_ “KEITH!” _

His room was quite a mess. He’d torn apart his flower crown, and destroyed every single rose he coughed out. His chest was burning, breathing was quite a challenge, and he felt practically suffocated inside his room. But it was better than anything else because, at least, no one was judging him.

Why was he so fucking weak? He let things get to him too easily, he got irritated too easily. And then he overreacted, fighting with people, tearing things apart, crying hot tears out of anger--

_ “Keith, please.” _

He sighed. It was better to just let them in and get this over with.

He opened the door, and a relieved Pidge came in. They needed a few seconds to take in the mare that Keith’s room was, but instead of complaining and pointing it out, they just looked at him, understandingly. Shit, they were such a good friend.

“Are you okay?”

“Guess,” he said, and sat back on bed.

“Try to relax, okay? I’m sure no one meant to hurt you or upset you. And even if anyone did, ignore them,” Pidge reasoned. They often also got overheated over stuff, but thanks to their brother, they were learning to control it. It was nice to see how Matt could help them out, even from far away.

“Okay. Okay, I’m already better, I just want to be alone for a bit.”

“That’s fine. I’ll get going, then. Are you sure you’re going to be fine?”

“As fine as possible.”

Pidge smiled, just slightly, and left. Keith was alone again, but he felt a little better, he could breathe again. He imagined not having friends, not having anyone to support him, like it was back in high school; he imagined going through the disease, without anyone by his side. It’d be hell. Thank God he now had Pidge, Lance and Hunk, at least. It was a huge improvement from no one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, also, if you want to follow me on other places, I'm collphan on every social media :)


	4. Chapter 4

Keith opened his eyes, slowly, and yawned. It was dark, and he grumbled something, upset. He hated to sleep during the day, because that fucked up his sleep schedule even more, and always gave him the worst headache ever - worse than it already was. He coughed up a few rosebuds and checked his alarm clock; it was nearly 7 PM. Ha, already? He’d basically slept through the whole day, only being awake during lunch.

It was still time to call the hospital and schedule his surgery appointment, so he decided to do it. He was going to have track practice on the following day - they were on every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday -, so he’d better make sure of when he was going to get better, to tell his coach as soon as possible.

He picked up his phone and dialed the hospital number, standing up on his bed and looking out the window as it ringed. He could see a bit of the desert from there, and that made him think of the night before. How did Shiro even know about the cabin? Why was he there  _ right  _ when Keith went, too? Why was life so cliché and rushed, why did he meet with his crush  _ right _ after those feelings had caused him this weird disease? 

A nurse picked up and Keith shook his head to get his mind off the matter and started giving the other person on the phone short answers to their short questions.

 

-

 

‘Hey, are you guys having dinner?’

Keith tapped his foot on the floor as he waited for Lance’s response. He was usually the only one who didn’t take ages to reply to texts, because he didn’t waste all his mobile data in researches and creating tools.

‘We’re going to the main hall right now. Why? Wanna join, Flowerboy?’

‘Sure. Meet you guys there?’

‘Yup’

He stood up and walked over to his closet, sliding his t-shirt and jacket on. He left the room quickly, but not before coughing some more and fixing his hair a little bit - it was too chaotic to ignore, like he usually did. The hall wasn’t too far from his dorm, so he was probably going to get there before the others did. Still, he walked quickly and with determination, because that was just how he  _ worked,  _ fast, strong and basically desperate. He couldn’t go on stairs, so he waited for the elevator and took it along with a few other students.

As soon as he arrived on the ground floor, he slid out of the little mess of people and made his way through campus, towards the main hall. People chatted everywhere, some of them coming back from class, but most going to get dinner on their own dormitories’ cafeterias.

Just as expected, he was there before any of his friends arrived, so he leaned against the wall and took in the sight. Spring was at its peak, the dry warmth of summer in the desert coming back slowly. It was one month and a half until finals, and on the day after he’d be done with school, Keith was going to get surgery. He knew his coach would be irritated by the fact that the fastest runner on the team wasn’t going to make it to competitions that summer, but at least he wasn’t going to  _ die. _

He coughed up a few flowers, trying to act casual about it, and put them in his little bag. Pidge, Lance and Hunk were approaching, and he smiled, getting off the wall.

“Hey, Keith,” Pidge grinned, giving him a nod.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted.

“Let’s go inside, I’m hungry,” Hunk said, pushing the other three into the building. Lance laughed it off, but Keith was quite nervous. He had to tell them about his surgery, but he knew they were against it - well, he didn’t know what was Lance’s position on it, but he knew what the other two thought about it -, so it was a bit difficult to sort out exactly  _ how  _ he was going to talk about the subject.

They picked out their food and took it all to the dining hall in their little trays, and sat down in the same table as always. Lance was going on and on about some minor he was taking for his engineering degree - not that he was the biggest fan of engineering, but he needed it to go over to spacecrafts and space engineering -, and Pidge was almost laughing of his face. Hunk wasn’t paying too much attention, Keith noticed; he just  _ really wanted  _ to eat.

In a moment, they all stopped talking to get some of their food, so Keith slid into the break and said what he wanted to.

“Guys, I know you think I shouldn’t get surgery--”

“Wait,” Hunk mumbled before he swallowed the piece of chicken breast he had in his mouth and kept talking. “You’re getting surgery?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Keith, come  _ on _ ,” Pidge said, interrupting him again. He was starting to get annoyed.

“I know what you guys think, but I really--”

“Honestly, you are going to regret this, I assure you. This is not going to be good for you as a person, dude…” Hunk sighed, and spoke quickly, like he did when he was sure about something, or trying to justify his actions.

“I agree! You should--”

“Who decides what I should and should not do is me,” Keith said, raising his voice a little bit so that he could finally get himself heard. “I know you think I shouldn’t get surgery because of the whole experience, but what if you were in my shoes? What would you do? Would you let this stupid disease kill you or would you get rid of it? I prefer to get rid of it, thank you very much.” He was speaking like he knew exactly what he was talking about and  _ no one _ would get a different opinion out of him. It was when he used this decided, strong voice that he felt the most confident. “I am getting surgery as soon as finals are over, so I am still getting one month and a half of this pain and of this feeling. If I leave it here for any more longer than that, I’m going to die, no ‘if’s and no ‘maybe’s.”

All three of his friends were a little surprised off of his reaction, and when the anxiety hit him in the gut, he coughed out a small shower of roses that came swirling down to the table, his thighs and a bit to the floor. Luckily, not any fell on his food, but almost.

“You do what you want to do about your flowers, mullet,” Lance shrugged, taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Thank you, Lance,” Keith said, a bit relieved. It wasn’t common for him to have to thank Lance, but sometimes he was the only one who got him.

“Well… I prefer you alive and crush-less than dead with flowers,” Hunk admitted, quite flustered.

“Yeah, they’re right. You do you and, um, if surgery is what takes to keep you alive, go on,” Pidge smiled, shyly.

“Thanks, everyone,” Keith sighed, happy that they’d come to terms with it so easily.

 

-

 

“That was nice, wasn’t it?” Pidge commented as they all walked outside to the starry sky and the half-empty campus.

“For sure. Much better than lunch,” Keith confirmed.

He felt in peace. No one made not-so-quiet comments about his roses, nor did everyone actually talk about it - at least not that he could notice. And the meal was good too; the main hall’s dinner was always good food, even to the appreciation of someone as good in the kitchen as Hunk. This felt normal for a second, things felt right in the way that they were, even with the flowers. Maybe he’d already attend classes again in the next day, because why not? He wasn’t feeling as bad anyways. Of course he wasn’t enjoying the way his chest ached and burned, the feel of ivy growing around his ribs. But it wasn’t inhuman anymore, now, and he managed to deal with it.

“But I sure as hell am tired,” Lance stood between them, stretching his arms and yawning, very dramatically. “I’m going to sleep. See you tomorrow!”

He walked away, and with a smile and short goodbyes, Hunk followed. 

“I should probably go too. Are you going to classes tomorrow?”

“Probably. Not 100% sure, but probably. I might skip the earlier lessons… What are they?”

“I can’t really recall all, but I know there’s astrophysics first, from 7:30 to 8:45.”

“I’ll meet you after that. Okay?”

Pidge seemed a little hesitant, but Keith didn’t give that a lot of attention. They were never happy about any of their friends missing classes, not doing activities or something like that. But they’d learned to deal with it, because they had to adapt to rules too, when the Garrison was a bit too strict for their liking.

“Sure. Good night.”

They walked away and Keith watched as they did. There weren’t a lot of people around there, because anyone who didn’t go to parties - it was Monday, no one was really going to parties yet - was already in their rooms as soon as they finished having dinner. Well, maybe except upperclassmen who had jobs in the city, in restaurants and things of that sort.

He headed to his dorm too, his mind wandering off, to future days. To fall, when he’d manage to live his normal life again, with track practice, no weird illnesses or anything like that. Everything back on track. To a few weeks later, getting rid of this burden in his body, stopping him from doing so much that he loved doing. To next years, to graduation, to all the life he had yet to live. He still had so much to experience and go through, and he was letting some flowers become such an important part of his life? Nah. He had better things to do.

Keith locked his bedroom door as soon as he got in, and let out a huge breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He was nervous. Why?


	5. Chapter 5

If it wasn’t for Lance, Keith would’ve probably slept in.

He’d set his alarm for 8:30, so that he would have time to eat something, get ready and go to class. He’d checked, and he had spare 15 minutes between astrophysics and his next class, so he used those to enjoy more sleep. But the noise was too quiet to wake him up, and he only woke up at 8:50, thanks to Lance’s frustrated knocks on the door.

Keith managed to get ready in a rush, without even eating anything, and run to the building where his computer science class was held. He was going to meet his friends before it, just to say good morning, chat a bit and all, but now he didn’t have the time for that. He almost was late, and he absolutely did not pay any attention to the teacher at all.

He spent the whole class looking out the window, which wasn’t something he normally did, but he couldn’t bear look at his classmates when he knew most of them were trying to be quiet while chatting about him. He wasn’t wearing a flower crown, but he was coughing tiny roses from time to time, attracting attention from everyone, and then having to quietly pick up the flowers and stick them inside his bag. He could feel the professor getting more and more upset about the fact that Keith was not paying attention to her, nor letting her give the lesson properly.

As soon as the bell rang, he hurried out of the classroom and exhaled deeply as he spilled out the building. The pressure of having people everywhere commenting about you and looking at you was awful, he wasn’t used to it. He didn’t like being the center of attention, the main attraction, that one person everyone is gossiping about - dear Lord, he certainly didn’t want to know what theories were coming up to explain his disease. He was the lone wolf, he stood in the corners and observed other people, he was quiet and precise, not loud and obnoxious. No, the loud and obnoxious person was definitely Lance, not him.

He checked his phone and started going to mechanics, where he’d meet Pidge. After it, he had chemistry and then it was time for lunch. Although he liked having some extra sleep, it also felt good to have a schedule again. But it was more reminding him of the time before something he sort of feared, the moment of telling coach about his situation.

Keith got to the mechanics building early, and went to the classroom - the class was going to be theoric, that day -, sure that his friend was already there. And they were, sitting in their usual place, notebook open and tapping on the pages with their mechanical pencil. They smiled when they say Keith and gestured for him to sit behind them, and so he did.

“Hey, lazy-ass,” Pidge grinned, leaning over his desk. “Had fun sleeping in today?”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled along. “Nope. I had even less fun at class.”

“What happened?”

“People were talking about me, and everytime I coughed everyone stopped just to look at me. You know how I get uncomfortable…”

“Sorry, Keith. Going through this must be much worse than I thought.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, and ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “It’s hard to actually put yourself in someone’s shoes, I mean, you never know how their minds work…”

“Absolutely,” Pidge said, and turned around as soon as the teacher got into the room.

 

-

 

Keith slid his tray onto the table and started munching on some salad, clearly moody. Hunk, Lance and Pidge weren’t talking too much either, but they weren’t frowning and pouting like he was.

He ditched class for one day and it already tired him to go back to routine. Well, Tuesdays were never his favourite days, but still. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was actually tired or just fed up with the chatter and the increasing pain in his chest, but he was far from feeling 100%, that’s a given. His friends had noticed too, and just left him alone, because they were already used to him being upset - with himself.

He ate lunch in silence, listening to the conversation evolving around him, but never interacting. Drowning in thoughts, mostly useless and random. He didn’t have too much to think about that he hadn’t already thought of. He had the track practice following lunch in mind, and kept repeating what he’d say to the coach to himself, nervous. The big problem wasn’t really coach, but his assistant would be an issue. The roles between the two seemed to be reversed, Coran - the coach - only actually being in the lead because he was a man, and it was a boys’ team. It seemed a bit unfair when you thought about it because, even though Coran was clever and good at strategy, Allura - the ‘assistant’ - was fantastic at all of those. Her passion for sports was stronger, she could handle the runners much better, and just stood out in every way.

“Hey, Keith? Aren’t you coming?”

“Huh?” He blinked a few times and saw all his friends on their feet, ready to enjoy the few minutes before next classes and to go to whatever they had to do then. That meant, he only had a short period of time to talk to Allura and Coran before his teammates arrived in the field, heard the conversation and things got awkward. “Oh, oh yeah. But I need to head out to track practice beforehand, so I’m not going with you guys.”

“Okay. See you later,” Hunk nodded and headed off, his left hand resting protectively on Lance’s back. They were a cute couple when they weren’t being annoying or something individually.

Keith picked up his bag and breathed in a couple times, pressing the little lumps on his chest that his loose shirt hid. They weren’t too clear, but visible when he wore his favourite tee or any tight apparel. Having that proof of his flowers right there, marked on his skin, felt like crap. The same old thoughts about weakness and insecurity flew back into his mind, but he shook them off and walked away.

 

-

 

_“What?!”_

Well, at least he wasn’t surprised.

“What do you mean, flowers blooming _inside of you_?”

“Well, um-- I have this disease now, and there are roses in my ribcage and, uh… I can’t really run. I can barely go up stairs.”

Allura pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed, and huffed. That reaction was expected, and the mad tone in her voice was, too.

“So you’re saying we lost our main talent to a bunch of fucking _flowers?!_ ” Keith nodded, slightly startled by the swear word. She never cursed. He knew she’d be off about his situation, but he never really thought she’d curse, and that seemed stupid now that he thought back on it. “Ugh, well, we can’t do anything about it, can we…”

“I’m getting surgery to get it removed though, but it’s only after finals. I’ll be back in fall, I’ll train during the summer and all…”

“Sure, sure, Kogane. Just-- Explain this disease thing to me. I don’t understand,” she shook her head and looked up, waiting for his answer.

Keith blushed and looked down. He immediately knew that, if he told her that it was born from one-sided love, she’d get Shiro’s name out of him, but if he tried to lie and come up with an excuse or a fake explanation, she would also find out. He was basically screwed.

“One-sided love,” he answered directly, but still hesitant. “I’ve got a crush, it’s unrequited, and then roses started blooming in my lungs because of it. Hanahaki Disease, is what it’s called, the whole disease and stuff _,_ ” he said, quickly.

“Ooh, love,” Allura smiled, her expression imitating a smirk, but a huge grin taking up her lips. “Who is it?”

“Shiro,” he mumbled, turning the word into some sort of unintelligible noise.

“Who?”

“Shiro.”

He thought it was impossible, but her smile became wider and brighter.

“Takashi Shirogane,” she teased, looking down at her shoes and then up again. “What a lucky guy, huh? Has you all to himself,” she poked under Keith’s rib - she was very friendly when people came to her about more personal business, so everyone considered her a buddy -, and after bending over from the pain, he laughed. “You should talk to him. I’m sure you’d be able to fix this whole disease thing without surgery, and _in time for summer competitions…_ ”

“Nah, thanks, Allura. I’m fine, really. And too busy to be involved with love stuff, I mean, there are project deadlines coming up, and finals--”

“You’re already in, Keith. I mean, because of the roses already inside of you. What’s wrong with trying? It won’t hurt.”

“Yes, it will. The flowers will get worse, and my own feelings will be down when he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings--”

“What if he does?”

It felt so right for Keith to finally voice out all of his worries, without minding names or circumstances, that he ended up saying too much. Now he could be questioned and proved wrong, and he hated that.

“He won’t. He wouldn’t.”

“That’s what you think. But _what if he does?_ ”

“If he does, then my fucking whole life will be sorted.”

He was a bit irritated now. Shiro wouldn’t feel the same, why would he? And it’d be nearly impossible for him to make such feelings develop in such a short time period, of a month and a half. Love isn’t born out of nowhere.

“And that’s exactly why you should try. Because, what if.”

“No, it’s not worth it, Allura,” Keith shook his head, trying to calm himself down and going to sit on the bleachers, not too far from the coach’s assistant but not next to her either. “I prefer surgery. I’m okay.”

“But--”

“We’re done talking about it,” he cut her off, his voice angry. He didn’t want to be rude, but he didn’t want to continue talking about the matter either.

He coughed out a few roses and looked away from Allura, to everyone arriving from the locker room. He didn’t really have anything to do in the free time that practice would be, so he decided he’d just watch all his teammates and observe their weaknesses from afar. Maybe that way, he’d help them out more. Maybe that way, he’d help anyone, at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated (°◡°♡)


	6. Chapter 6

Looking from the outside, all his team’s difficulties seemed to pop out in front of Keith’s eyes.

He’d never had the opportunity to watch a practice instead of being a part of it, and doing so made him understand completely why Allura got so heated up on lecturing them sometimes.

All of the runners had at least one main weakness that stopped them from doing their very best, although some went through it better than others. A few of them just lost a bit of speed when doing drastic curves, while others took a while to realise when they could start going, losing one or two seconds on the beginning.

There was one problem affecting the whole team, one problem that made Keith stand out even more because he didn’t have to deal with it. All of them thought too much, stretched too much, expected too much. They practiced too much. Yes, it did help, but if you just keep looking at the finish lines, you won’t move forward. When running, it has to be a natural movement, it has to come from within you. You can’t go as fast as possible when you’re too busy wasting energy on thinking of a strategy - that wasn’t a sport for strategy. It’s all about your guts, your instincts. When running, if the goal is to be a swift, agile athlete, it’s necessary to rely more on instincts than skill alone.

He observed as his teammates ran lap after lap, doing small breaks and receiving tips from both Coran and Allura.  _ He  _ wanted to go up to all the other guys and tell them how much they were letting obstacles get in their way and stop them, but his conscience told him -  _ for once  _ \- that well, it’d be a bit harsh. And they wouldn’t take a flower-coughing idiot seriously, even if he was the best between them when healthy.

He wished he was healthy, though. Running was his way of putting all responsibilities away and just letting the world take you on its path, and just letting yourself go. It was his way of relaxing, more than going to the shack in the desert, more than stargazing - maybe.

Before practice was even over, he left. It wasn’t nice, seeing everyone being fully capable of doing things he wished he could still do. It was better to just go to the library or whatever, to his room, to a lab, it didn’t matter. As long as he went away from the tracks. It was only twenty minutes before his next class anyway, so it wasn’t like he’d have to wait for too long.

Instead of going inside somewhere, Keith decided to sit in a patch of grass, next to a tree. Not many people were hanging around campus at this time, most were in classes or any sort of practice. But there were still a few small groups, of three or four, here and there. All of them were studying, because any last projects that weren’t finished pretty much had to be done then. Luckily, he was a great student, even without studying like crazy. He had Pidge to help him with anything, and just academic talent he was born with. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t hard either. He could do it.

 

-

 

The classes on the afternoon were much better than the ones in the morning. Most people were now aware of his condition, and even though there was still some chatter going around wherever he went and whenever he coughed, it was more bearable. Naturally, he got mad, but now it wasn’t to a hurting point. He could just deal with it,  _ just. _

His final class was with all three of his friends, and they were waiting on the halls when he got there. They smiled and greeted him, casually.

“Hey! How was track practice? How did Allura react?” Lance smirked, and Keith rolled his eyes. Always begging for a fight, Lance. Always poking in Keith’s weak points.

“She was surprised at first, but I explained it all in the end. She also is against surgery and all, but too bad for her.”

Hunk smiled, warmly, and shrugged. “You’re doing what you believe is best for you. The best we can do is just support you, I guess. It’s not like it’s going to hurt you or kill you - in fact, it’s the opposite.”

“Pretty much,” Keith agreed. It was always nice when Hunk was his normal, supportive and friendly self. He cared so much for his friends, it was a very cool thing of his. He also had his very Lance fanboy side, and it was funny most times, although sometimes it got slightly irritating - usually just for Keith.

“Keith, I was doing a small research in between classes today, and are you sure you don’t have to do any sort of medical exam in the time while you have the disease and all? Because from what I saw, the growth of the flowers needs to be followed by a doctor, with X-rays, breathing tests and stuff like that,” Pidge pointed out. Keith felt happy that they were worried like this, nicely worried. It was really cool to have all of his friends caring for him.

“I still need to check up on that, I think I might’ve gotten an email or something from the hospital. If anything, I’ll tell ya’, okay?”

They nodded, and gestured for all of the four to get into the classroom, as it was only a couple minutes before class started. They all followed and sat as a little square in the back, Keith behind Pidge, Lance next to him, Hunk in front of Lance and by Pidge’s side. They only had time to put their stuff in place before the teacher arrived.

 

-

 

Keith huffed and closed the door behind him, jumping onto bed and letting his head flop onto the pillow. He stared at his ceiling and sighed, not without coughing out a couple rosebuds and a few small flowers. He definitely was getting used to them, and quickly, way faster than he expected. He thought, at first, that it’d take him at least a week to accept the whole ‘there are roses inside of me’ thing, but he actually just went ‘okay’ at it and tried to live with it. It was mildly successful thus far.

He sat up and stretched his arms so that he could try and get his laptop from the bottom of the bed, and as he settled it on his lap and swung it open, he checked his phone screen on the bedside table. There was only one notification, from this cat game he was still playing, even though everyone had already stopped doing so ages ago. He swiped it away and turned back to face the computer, pressing the button to switch it on.

The screen lit up white and forced him to blink a couple times, and then his wallpaper loaded; a black and white picture of a rocket soaring through the clouds. God, how much he dreamed of outerspace. He’d do almost anything to get there, and his major pretty much showed that.

He opened the browser and clicked away until he was in his email inbox. There was, in fact, an email from the hospital, and it talked about going to get one examination in three weeks’ time, halfway before the surgery. He proceeded to respond with a confirmation, about the day and time too.

After getting that done, Keith left his laptop open in his bed and walked over to the bathroom to take a shower. He was quite thankful for his dorm room having its own bathroom, and he didn’t have to share it with everyone else from the whole floor.

He locked the door behind him and stripped down to bareness, entering the shower booth and turning the tap on. Cold water firstly washed down his hair and figure, but then he handled it until it was warm and nice. He pushed his hair back and let his entire body soak, hot droplets hitting his skin all over.

He made it be as quick as possible, only using the time to wash his hair and clean his body, leaving right after, wrapping a towel around his hips and exiting through the curtains. He glanced at his image in the mirror before going back to his bedroom, and he could see strands of wet, dark hair falling and sticking everywhere around his forehead and neck. It was a messier look than usual.

Before even going through the door, Keith stopped and coughed aggressively, a bunch of flowers flopping down to the tiles of the bathroom floor. Rolling his eyes at it, he walked to his closet, picked out clothes randomly and put them on. It was another common combination of black skinny jeans and a tee, this time red and loose.

He picked up his phone from his bed and texted Lance, to make sure they were going to meet in the main hall in 20 minutes or so. As soon as his confirmation came, he grabbed his jacket from the ground, stretched and left the room, making his way lazily out of the building and through campus.

A longer path taking to the same place was empty, and the almost yellow lamp posts shone bright on it, so Keith decided to take it, because he had time to spare and he  _ definitely  _ preferred being away from all the other students.

Literally  _ no one  _ was in that route, and that made Keith very satisfied. He had successfully avoided human company, but not in a direct, rude way. He could take his time to think a bit, to breathe in, breathe out and cough some roses.

And he did. He walked peacefully, not too slowly because he was aware of his time limit, but not too fast either. It didn’t bother his lungs at all, in fact, breathing the warm air seemed to be good for the flowers. Now, he didn’t exactly know if that was good or bad, but as long as he didn’t have to stop to catch his breath and desperately cough wet, mushy roses.

He arrived at the main hall after his friends did; when he entered the building, they were already waiting for him next to the cafeteria doors. He smiled and nodded as an acknowledgement, and went towards them.

“Hey, everyone. Did I keep you waiting?”

“Oh, ‘sup, Keith. We just arrived. It’s chill,” Lance shrugged.

Hunk guided them inside the cafeteria and they picked up each’s food, leaving for the dining hall one after the other. They sat down and ate while talking about the classes of the day, and other not-so-important topics. Hunk blabbered about some recipe he’d found and that he’d want to try out as soon as possible. All the other three showed themselves excited for it, because Hunk was an  _ excellent  _ cook and never disappointed.

After the meal, they said their goodbyes and took their own ways quickly, not making a big fuss about the farewell, as they’d absolutely see each other the next day.

When he arrived at his dorm room, Keith threw himself in bed and whipped out his phone, checking the class schedule for the next day. The day started at 7:30 AM, so, in theory, he’d have to wake up at 7 or so… And he didn’t feel like it. The first class was his main mathematics minor, and the second one was… Astrophysics. He let his head flop onto the pillow, and while he knew that he shouldn’t ditch another astrophysics lesson, he didn’t feel like waking up anytime before 8:30 AM the next day. If he was going to skip only the mathematics class, he’d still have to get up early, at 8. Feeling a slight guilt, he sighed and made the decision of not attending either of the two first classes of the next day.

Something inside of him told him to warn Pidge, just in case, even though he knew that their reaction wouldn’t really be  _ agreeing  _ to his choice. In the end, he did text them, because  _ why not increase the amount of guilt he was feeling! _

‘Pidge? I’m ditching astrophysics tomorrow morning’

‘Keith, it’ll be the fourth consecutive astrophysics lesson you’ll be losing, and finals are next month!’

‘I’m ill. I’m terribly sick and not in the condition of waking up at 8 AM tomorrow morning. Yeah?’

‘You’re lying. You really should go to class.’

‘I can’t. Sorry, pal!’

He blocked his phone and put it aside, feeling his chest heavy. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the shame he felt being piled up on him or because of the flowers’ stem, but he didn’t care anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, tomorrow I'll be posting the prologue to my new fic, so stay tuned :)


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, maybe Keith really should have went to astrophysics.

When he met up with his friends for lunch, Pidge seemed to be something between grumpy and worried for him. They didn’t touch the subject until Keith questioned them about it, halfway through the meal.

“Pidge, what’s up?”

“Huh?” They tilted their head slightly, not really getting what exactly Keith was asking about.

“Why’re you being… Weird with me?”

“Oh,” they smiled, not happy nor cheery, but as if they knew more than anyone else. Well, they sort of did. “You  _ really  _ should have went to astrophysics today, as I told you. The teacher talked about some important subjects for the final exams, and you lost it.”

“Wait, but can’t you like, help me study?”

Pidge sighed and fixed their glasses, dramatic.

“As I’m a  _ great  _ friend, I will. When are you free?”

“Friday, I have the last period free, right after…” Keith checked his phone, and chuckled. “Astrophysics. If you can, we can go to the library right after that, and you’ll, I don’t know, help me out.”

“Fine. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks, Pidge,” Keith grinned, looking almost dumb - he would, if he didn’t have… His face.

 

-

 

It was more bearable dealing with the whole flowers situation after a few days. Keith had learned to ignore the chatter that  _ still  _ followed him around, and to answer others’ questions shortly, but without being excessively rude. His roses were still tiny, and he still coughed a few rosebuds sometimes. No one in the track team had asked anything when he met up with them after lunch on Thursday, they just said some ‘sorry’s.

And Pidge was right, of course. When he  _ finally  _ attended astrophysics on Friday, he couldn’t understand anything the teacher was talking about, he was completely lost. Not that the professor himself was of much help, not being the biggest fan of questions and more often than not acting snarky towards his students. You either understood what he teached, or you ran after those who did for help.

Later on, at the library, before Pidge started, Keith already had his notebook open and he was willing to listen and try to get everything he’d missed.

“Keith,” Pidge said, sitting down beside him and getting a bunch of sticky notes and a binder. They opened it, and color-organized paper pages were filling it up. “Are you ready? Are you paying attention?”

He nodded, but shortly after, coughed out a series of flowers, interrupting the sentence his friend was about to start. Apologetic, he raised his hands and whispered a bunch of apologies, muffled with little coughs and rosebuds.

“Okay. So…”

 

-

 

“I don’t get it.”

Pidge sighed, trying their very best to be patient and nice. Keith felt really bad for not understanding, but Pidge’s explanations were a bit too complicated and confusing for him. He had the talent and the capacity to understand, if he hadn’t ditched class he would probably know it well, but now it was too late. That wasn’t anyone’s fault but his, and it was his duty to go after what he’d lost. He tried and asked for Pidge’s help, but it wasn’t of any good, so know he had to look for more options.

“It’s not your fault, though,” he shook his head quickly. “You know everything, and  _ a bit too well. _ ”

“Yeah, I guess. You can talk to the TA and get some help from him, maybe he can have a study session with you? He knows way more than me, and he’s better at dealing with people, so it might be the better thing to do.”

Keith nodded, even though he couldn’t recall who the TA for astrophysics was.

“Okay. That must be better, yeah, okay.”

Pidge smiled, but then suddenly seemed to remember something. “Hey, I need to get a grade checked, so why don’t I schedule the encounter for you? I’ll text you about the date and time!”

“Sure,” Keith shrugged, a small shadow of a smile on his lips. “Anything will do.”

“Yay! Great,” his friend stood up, closing their binder and sticking it into their bag. “I really should go now, if I want to talk to the TA before Monday. So, see you tomorrow?”

“See ya’.”

 

-

 

When Keith woke up, Saturday morning, something felt good. He felt good, for some reason he didn’t really know why. It was as if things had clicked for a second, things were alright and okay, and he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. He was still coughing roses - he checked right after brushing his teeth -, but it felt like they didn’t sting and hurt so much anymore. He felt really good, for no reason why. But it was definitely better than being his usual more serious self.

He went to the city on his motorbike to have breakfast, because his head was screaming ‘why not’, and he went along with it. In the end, he ate vanilla ice cream with fresh strawberries, because again, ‘why not’?

After he finished and got back to the campus, he just casually walked back to his room. That crazy happiness wasn’t there anymore, his chest was aching again. He wasn’t terribly upset or anything, he just wasn’t as relaxed anymore. His life was back to normal. A small part of him thanked the universe for only letting that happen after he got his ice cream, because his regular, fully-conscious of consequences self would have never done that.

Checking his phone, Keith found a text notification, from Lance.

‘Yo, Flowerboy, where are you?’

‘I had breakfast on the city’

‘And you didn’t call your friends, smh. We’re coming over’

‘Um, okay…?’

He tried to tidy his room to an extent, because it always seemed to magically make a mess of itself, like his hair. Maybe it was his curse, to be a chaotic being in a chaotic space. Hmm, maybe. He did like organized places, where things were his and no one messed them up. Maybe, one day he’d be able to live in his own little Keith-logic-ruled environment.

To pretend as if the dorm was less messy, he sort of arranged the sheets back on the bed and cleaned up the rotting roses from the floor. They were all pretty dead, toned with weird, desaturated shades of red and wrinkled, dry petals. It was a bit better than before but it wasn’t quite okay yet. But that was all he managed to get done before muffled knocks filled the air.

“Hello, everyone,” he opened the door and stretched his free arm, welcoming them into the bedroom.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk said, smiling.

“Keith! Keith, I’ve got great news. You can get the whole missed subject matter over with today! Are you free after lunch? At, like, 12:30 PM or something like that?” Pidge sat down on his bed, checking their phone as if the information wasn’t recorded in their brain like any other.

“Yeah.”

“Great! Then, you’ve got to meet the TA in the library at that time. He’ll probably be waiting for you nearby the entrance, he’s too kind to wait inside.”

He still couldn’t remember who the hell the astrophysics TA was - he wondered if that information had ever gotten to him in the first place -, but now that the appointment was scheduled, it didn’t really matter. He’d meet the guy in a few hours, why bother trying to force his mind into putting together who it was?

 

-

 

After lunch, Keith didn’t even waste time with his friends, heading straight to the library. It was almost 12:30 anyways, so if whoever he was going to meet wasn’t there when he arrived - being  _ late  _ -, he’d just wait. What was the point of fooling around for short minutes when he had a place to go and a time limit? It was much better to just go already.

He got to the staircase that leaded to the library, and it hadn’t clicked yet. He looked around and obviously coughed out a bunch of mushy roses, because Shiro was there, doing whatever it was and looking as good as usual. A few other people were also hanging by the stairs, and at first, he thought one of them was the one who was going to study with him. He thought that the fact that, when he glanced over and Shiro was looking back at him, was a coincidence. He was a bit too focused on trying to distinguish who was it that was waiting for him and on not dying due to the flowers sneaking up his throat, that he didn’t see when Shiro walked up to him.

“Oh, hey. Keith, right?”

He jerked his head to the side, and faced Shiro’s grey eyes. For a couple seconds, the shock was enough to keep his breathing steady, but that didn’t last any long. He bent over himself, almost falling and kneeling on the ground, and coughed desperately, his throat closing up and the ivy spread around his ribcage seeming to press together and tighten the space around his lungs. Shiro’s good-intentioned pats on the back weren’t doing anything but making it worse - as if his head wasn’t bad enough. Some siren screamed that  _ ‘this is only happening because he has zero feelings for you!! Enjoy the ride for the next hours studying with him!!’ _ , and he had enough of it after two single seconds.

He pushed Shiro away and fought with the flowers for a bit more. When he had the enough strength and willpower to get back up on his feet properly, he did, and coughed even more before muttering out a few words.

“Are… You… The TA?”

“Yeah, didn’t your friend tell you? I’m the one who’s going to be helping you out,” Shiro smiled, awkwardly, because Keith’s stupid  _ roses  _ were making a mess and ruining the whole situation. Even slightly weirded out and surprised like this, Shiro was still nice. Even with Keith’s terrible and rude way to refuse his attempt to help. 

“Oh,” Keith breathed out, still having slight issues with the whole thing of stopping the flowers. “I didn’t know. You just caught me off-guard, I guess.”

“It’s the second time in a row, your… Roses must really dislike me, I guess.”

_ Oh, you have no idea. _

“Are you good to go inside? There’s AC in there so I’m not sure if--”

“I’m-- Okay. I’m okay, I just… Have to deal with this… Real quick.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispered, understanding, and waited as Keith tried to choke out any flower that could bother him. Even trying so hard to get rid of them, he knew that he’d be coughing like crazy when standing by Shiro’s side, but he didn’t have any choice.

He nodded when he was good to go, and the two of them slowly made their way up the stairs. Everyone around was staring at them, but Shiro didn’t make a big deal out of it. Keith hated it with everything he had inside, but as his… Study buddy wasn’t really caring, he tried not to either.

The perspective of spending a couple hours sitting by Shiro’s side, meant to be concentrated on some astrophysics subject he didn’t understand a thing of, was a bit scary even  _ without  _ his disease. But destiny had thrown it in there, so now there was a  _ third  _ factor to the mess, and Keith had no idea how he’d deal with it. All he could do was wish himself luck and let things roll out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos motivate me to write more, faster :>


	8. Chapter 8

When Keith and Shiro sat down, inside the library, not exactly in the fullest floor nor in the fullest table, Keith knew everyone was looking right at them, staring, even if they intended to be discrete. What was the most popular guy in the whole school doing with the loner that was coughing flowers anyway? He wondered how it looked to outsiders.

“So, Keith,” Shiro smiled, and flicked his hair away from his face, “what is it that you don’t really get?”

“Uh, can we get like, um--” He was blushing furiously, and his throat hurt like hell. Keith didn’t want to cough out mushy, wet and ugly flowers in the front of his crush! “A textbook? For me to, um, show you… What I don’t understand.” He’d made the mistake of looking up, just slightly, to meet Shiro’s eyes.  _ Fuck. _

“Oh, right! Be right back!”

As soon as he had gone off to the middle of the stacks of books, Keith grabbed his bag and spit all the roses stuck in his throat into it. Saliva and petals were filling his mouth, and he rushed to get them out before the TA came back.

Life was a bitch, and he couldn’t be more irritated at the situation he’d found himself into. That wasn’t going to work out, that couldn’t. Spending time with Shiro was that one thing he wanted to avoid more than anything, both to not embarrass himself and to not fill his stupid little heart with false hopes. It was already bad enough to simply have plants making themselves at home in his lungs, he surely did not want to have them ruining everything  _ more  _ than they already were.

And this version of him that showed up at the simple sight of Shiro? What  _ was  _ that? He wasn’t this blushy mess, this desperate and obviously crushing  _ someone _ failure of a man. No, he was a quiet guy, simple, strong, not very social nor very kind. If this is how things were going to be if he ever hung around Shiro, he surely did not want to do so.

“Here you have it,” the older man’s voice made him jump, but he quickly recovered himself and sticked his bag into his belt. Shiro put the astrophysics textbook in front of them as he sat down, pushing it lightly towards Keith’s hand’s reach.

“Oh, yeah-- Thanks.” Keith could feel his speech much more free than before, but it still wasn’t easy to fully formulate sentences. He turned his head to the side and coughed a couple rosebuds while opening the cover of the book. Breathing deeply, he started going through the pages to find the subject he was weak on, trying excessively hard not to focus on the hesitant figure of the man right by his side.

 

-

 

“That’s,” Keith looked down, and let the ghost of a smile creep up his lips, “way easier than I thought it was.”

“Right?” Shiro said, a grin hearable in his voice.

They had finished after a mere twenty minutes, leaving both with one hour and forty minutes free. Keith was  _ definitely  _ very thankful about that, because now he could leave and stop making a fool of himself in front of Shiro, who probably thought he was some stupid, weird flower-coughing loner that could barely speak.

Shiro stood up, and Keith forced himself into not turning his head around to watch him simply move. He was just probably going to say a simple ‘bye,’ a ‘see you later’ or something like that. Keith would reply, nod and all of that would finally be over - a part of him wanted it to last forever, but a bigger, more intelligent part of him knew that it’d be better for it to end already.

“Hey, since we’re already done, do you want to take a walk? We both have plenty of time free, I suppose, and we’re both here.”

Keith’s eyes went wide open and he gave himself a couple second to process the information.  _ Takashi Shirogane  _ just invited him for a walk, because out of the  _ tens of people  _ that would gladly hang out with him, he’d chosen  _ Keith _ . That couldn’t be it. Life wouldn’t be so good and so bad at the same time.

“Huh?” He turned his head around. He must’ve heard wrong.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Shiro shrugged. He didn’t repeat himself, so Keith probably had heard things right.

Should he go? Should he risk it? He didn’t have anything to do, really. Going could be a fun experience, a nice time. But not going guaranteed him that he wouldn’t embarrass himself at all - he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to. In one hand, saying ‘yes’ could provide him the chance of actually hanging out with Shiro, even if just for a bit, and saying ‘no’ would just mark him as a total antisocial weirdo in the TA’s mind.

“Um…” He thought about it one last time, not fully agreeing with the reply about to leave his lips. “Sure.”

“Really? Let’s get going, then,” Shiro smiled brightly, and nodded over to the stairs.

Keith stood up and pushed his chair back into place, doubting the words he himself had just said. He was about to go on a walk with his crush, the one person who’d caused the flowers blooming in his chest, and he was purely  _ hoping  _ not to make a fool out of himself. He was purely  _ hoping  _ not to make a mess, not to fuck everything up. Just  _ hoping. _

 

-

 

Keith opened his dorm’s door just slightly, vision out of focus, and slowly pushed it shut right behind his back. His legs didn’t know where to go, they didn’t know if they were supposed to take him to his bed and sit him there, or let him flop onto the floor. He did something in between, walking halfway towards the bed and then supporting himself on the mattress to sit on the ground.

He buried his face in his hands. A huge smile spread through his lips.

He’d just had a  _ great fucking time. _

The flowers didn’t really get in the way; actually, they helped them start chatting. Shiro asked about them and Keith explained the whole thing, only without the part of who exactly he loved. Shiro didn’t ask, though, being the nice person he was. After that, one topic led to the other, and in the end they found out they had a lot in common. With some getting used to, Keith quietly learned to control his roses a bit better, and to walk not too slowly while coughing. That made life way easier for him, and the whole stroll thing too.

By far, the best part was almost in the end. They were getting closer to the building that actually was Keith’s dormitory, and Shiro checked his clock, nonchalant, casual. When he became fully aware of the time, he did nothing but chuckle, and rub his nape nervously. Not in too much of a hurry, but clearly late for something.

“I had a great time, by the way. Maybe we can do this again some other day!” He suggested, sticking his hands in his pockets and letting his weight fall back to his heels.

Why did that make it sound like they had just been on a date? That was bad, and made Keith’s heart squirm, placed in the middle of the stem of the flowers.

“But I, well, I’m late for something in town, so I really should hurry… See you! Right?”

“Right,” Keith nodded, and smiled slightly when Shiro smiled wide and waved as he rushed away.

Thinking about the whole thing afterwards, brought roses up his windpipe, but even while choking, he couldn’t get a smile off his face. Things didn’t go as badly as he firstly thought they would; they didn’t go bad at all.  _ Surreal. _

Not quite believing it all yet, Keith wanted to tell someone all that had happened. But the only person who knew how  _ weak  _ he was for Shiro was Allura, and she surely wasn’t in campus for the weekend. Sure, telling Pidge was an option - not Lance, because he’d just end up making fun of him, nor Hunk, because when you tell something to Hunk, the next place the information’s gonna land is in Lance’s ears -, but they would immediately get it. Allura would tease him about it anyway, and maybe Pidge wouldn’t as much… Was it worth it telling someone else? Just so that the excitement wouldn’t be locked up inside him, mixed with roses and astrophysics subjects?

After staring at the carpet for solid minutes discussing the dilemma with himself, quietly, Keith decided that there wasn’t a need for it, and he could just let that pass. Hope that, at dinner, his friends wouldn’t specifically notice his happiness and track down its source, like they’d done before. Everything would be fine, just like normal.

 

-

 

The rest of Saturday and Sunday went by without any major events, just a lot of hanging out in Keith’s room - no one quite knew why, but they mostly met up there, when not in between classes or at the main hall - and studying.

Monday morning, Keith woke up feeling much better than in the week before. He attended all the morning classes, mostly accompanied by Pidge. They only went apart when the younger one had their free period, and the other had classes. When he went looking for them around campus so that they could go together to the next lesson, he found a lot more people there than he’d hoped. It did tie a knot in his stomach, but he forced it down and tried to ignore it, while scanning the place around for his friend.

They were sitting underneath a tree, with a textbook in their lap, quite far away from the building Keith had just left. He started to make his way past everyone to get to them, who was completely oblivious of their surroundings and of the time too, probably.

Halfway through, someone bumped into him, and he half-tripped, stumbling, and at the same time trying to regain his balance. Managing to, finally, he jerked his head up to put his whole body straight again, and ended up latching gazes with someone a bit far ahead.

_ Oh, for Christ’s sake. _

Instead of standing up properly, he was forced into bending over himself and coughing out a sloppy mess of roses into the floor, disgusting the people around him. How great, a look and a smile from Shiro now made him nervous and a flower-coughing mess. After Saturday afternoon, that wasn’t expected anymore, but his crush was so  _ stupid  _ that it wasn’t such a shock to have exaggerated reactions.

Keith looked up again, and Shiro was  _ still  _ looking at him, now something between fondly and happily, a funny smile playing on his lips and his hand slightly up, in a bit of an acknowledgement.

“Oh, did you become friends with Shiro?”

Keith jumped back a bit, and darted his eyes at Pidge, who was surprised at their friend’s reaction to their voice.

“Fuck, Pidge,” he placed a hand over his chest, trying to trace his now pumping desperately fast heart, “you scared me.”

They frowned, and arched one eyebrow, “Yeah, I noticed. Are we going to class or not? It’s not lunch break yet, and I am  _ not  _ letting you skip anything again.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Keith turned around and started walking away along with Pidge, his hand placed lazily on the back of his neck, rubbing it slightly.

He was  _ such  _ a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and happy new year! See you in 2017!


	9. Chapter 9

The day - actually, the week - wasn’t quite eventful for Keith. Just a lot of classes and studying, and a disturbing lack of free time. When the sun rose on Friday, the only thing on the boy’s mind was the medical exam he’d be going to have in two weeks’ time. That was a good reason to miss a lecture or two, he knew even Pidge would agree.

Leaving his dorm room took more than it should’ve; he was distracted and his chest felt like being stabbed repeatedly in all points and directions, plus the noise of people waking up, rambling and saying their good mornings to each other behind his back. It was all a bit confusing for his brain to process all at once, and a burning migraine was starting to develop. Fuck, he would end up needing pills for it, because morning headaches were the ones that lasted for Keith.

He’d already locked his door, though, and it would be too much of a pain to stay there any longer, so Keith just shrugged it off to himself and started his way out, and to have some breakfast, as nothing’s worse than a migraine, an empty stomach and classes to attend.

 

-

 

Nothing felt right all day long. All the classes were a complete blur, and the professors’ voices in Keith’s head sounded way more like a continuous buzz. The roses weren’t even bothering him as much as the headache, he was catching them in his hand and sticking them in his bag easily, quickly, everytime one came up. All he wanted was to go back to his dorm room, take a couple aspirins and sleep the whole night - and hopefully the whole morning, too.

As soon as he was free after the astrophysics class that was specifically painful to attend, he sort of rushed out of the room and made his way out of the building, back to the dormitory he lived in. Like all Fridays, his last period was free, so it was light and warm when he stumbled into the halls. His head felt about to explode, and the flowers were coming at that exact moment. He stopped next to a trashcan and vomited out too many roses for his liking.

_ Discomfort  _ was too weak of a word to describe how he was feeling at that moment, his lungs coughing themselves out and the migraine stuck in his head forcing the skull outwards, so it could be free. Keith knew that some medicine and a good amount of rest would do their thing and make him feel better, so all he had to do was get back to his room, and everything would become easier.

Tripping over his own feet, Keith left and tried to avoid all the other students going in, but it wasn’t successful. He bumped shoulders with everyone, and turned around with his vision blurry, mixing incoherent sounds with apologies inside his mouth. “Sorry, I mean-- Fuck, sorry,” he whispered, focusing on the silhouette until their face became fully visible in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Keith,” the person chuckled, and the voice made things click inside his brain, although the rest of his body didn’t quite get it, only a single flower floating out from his lips. “Are  _ you  _ okay, though?”

“I’m fine,” he shook it off, but a sting of pain burst through his head and he rubbed his temple, wincing. The undefined figure of Shiro took a step out from the flow of young people, and a step closer to Keith.

“Can you even see me? Do you need some water, anything?” The genuine worry in his voice was like a whole new stab in Keith’s brain.

“I swear, it’s nothing, I’m just going to go to my room and rest. It’s what I really need right now. You should go to class, or you’ll be late, though.”

“It’s not a class, I was going to give back some files a student gave me to review. I need to talk to her about it, still, just dropping it here, but-- You go rest. It’s the best you can do. Get better soon,” Shiro smiled, and patted Keith’s shoulder in support. A fake, almost hurting -  _ really  _ hurting - smile responded in the younger man’s mouth, and he nodded, leaving slowly and walking towards his dormitory building.

 

-

 

Keith’s lungs caught up and bloomed in unending roses as soon as he got into his room, and he choked out all the flowers and petals his body wasn’t able to bring up along with the pain. This obstacle between him and the pills to lessen the migraine exploding his brain into thousands of pieces was so unfairly placed in time, so  _ mean  _ to be happening right when he was already in his dorm, water, medicine and  _ bed  _ in reach. He had to deal with it though, pushing the roses out as quickly as possible and stumbling over to the bathroom.

Forcing the cabinet over the sink’s door open was a challenge, Keith’s hand shaking and nearly rotten rosebuds still escaping his lips. He grabbed some aspirins and closed the door, its mirror front facing him. Without the patience to look at his reflection, he did nothing but take the pills and then drink some tap water to wash them down. After so, he turned his back to the sink and the cabinet and went to his bed, more fatigued than he’d been in months.

Settled under the sheets - it was way too hot for anything thick, but the fabric’s temperature was nice and cool, just right -, Keith sighed and brushed his hair back with his fingers, feeling sleep slowly dragging him in. His brain wasn’t in a good state, and could barely handle his own thoughts and desire to rest. If he tried to think about anything other than how much his head hurt and how much he wanted to sleep, he’d pass out, and that wasn’t the best way to lose consciousness. Letting the body get its deserved recharging time was, definitely, a much better alternative.

Holding lightly onto the pillow, Keith closed his eyes, eyelids heavy and mind dizzy. While everything faded to the darkness, he couldn’t grasp anything to put straight, and let himself sleep.

 

-

 

He yawned and sat up in bed, blinking a few times before he actually took a look around. That wasn’t his dorm room, but he knew where he was; he was in the shack, in the middle of the desert. He didn’t have a headache anymore, and he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt either; when he touched his chest looking for the bumps caused by the stem of the roses blooming in his ribcage, he didn’t find them.  He tried coughing, and no flowers came out. He wasn’t sick, either.

Everything around him was so real, though. Keith could swear all of that was real. It did seem much more believable then the whole flowers-in-your-lungs situation… Maybe  _ that  _ was a dream.

Trying to comprehend things, he hadn’t heard the noises coming from further inside the house. There was someone else in there, and his mind couldn’t think of who. There was something, some blurry, faded memory of someone, someone who knew about the shack… Maybe someone lived with him? It was hard to remember, and it’d be easier to just check. He stood up, but his weight was too much for his feet at first, and he stumbled, each footstep echoing in a thump on the wooden floor.

“Keith? Are you okay, baby?”

Shiro stepped into the bedroom, and Keith felt like that was natural, and that was best. A little part of his brain reasoned ‘what? this can’t be real. this isn’t real, come on!’, but he ignored it. It would surely be a lot better to enjoy Shiro’s company as long as it lasted, even if it didn’t last much. 

“Yeah… I am,” he smiled, and walked closer to the other man, trying him out to see what was their relationship - roommates? acquaintances? friends? most importantly, boyfriends? He didn’t know if he had heard ‘baby’ wrong, but he hoped he hadn’t. He believed he hadn’t.

“That’s good,” Shiro smiled back, and closed the distance between them with a quick, sweet kiss. His lips tasted of maple syrup, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat when he realised so. “Come on, breakfast is ready. I think I actually managed to not burn some pancakes. I wanted you to wake up with the smell of food around, thought it’d be nice.”

“Thank you… Baby.”

The moment Keith entered the kitchen, all of that faded away. ‘Fuck, a dream,’ he cursed in his mind, but he forgot that sentence as soon as new surroundings took shape around him. He was in the surgery room, and the doctor looking at him had a big mascot head on, of a  _ kawaii  _ bear - one of those you see all the time in Japan and on the internet.

Keith’s chest was cut open, and it didn’t hurt, but he was still awake. Instead of blood, organs, bones and flowers, all there was to see was a bouquet of roses. A small white envelope was carefully sitting in between the flowers, and he picked it up.  _ Keith,  _ it said in golden, fancy handwriting. He looked to the bear surgeon before doing anything, and it did nothing but nod.

Uncertain, Keith opened the envelope, and a card fell out, falling back into place over the roses. He had to get closer to read the message, and then he saw it wasn’t his eyes’ fault; the words were blurred, and the only neat part was an X and ‘Shiro’; a kiss and a signature.

Darkness swallowed the place again, leaving Keith to look around and not find a thing. Nothing solidified around him; it was just him and nothing else, no light, no objects, no people.

“Hello?” He shouted, and his voice jumped back on the infinity, echoing in the quiet, dead space. Nothing to answer, nothing to absorb the noise.

Something appeared, tens of feet away. Keith stumbled, testing the ground at every step, towards it, the  _ thing  _ gaining shape and detail the closer it was.

Ribs. A ribcage, floating in the air, without organs inside, without anything but the bones. Keith stopped and stood there, looking at it. What was that? What was it trying to say? And then, things started happening. A green ivy started growing around the sternum, fixing itself around it in three tight loops. One single rosebud bloomed out of it, and it fell off.

The first night.

It started spreading around, the stem finding a way through the bones, around them. Roses came and went much quicker, falling off and growing again while the plant marked its presence in the ribs. As soon as every single rib was covered by several loops of ivy, the growing stopped. For a while nothing happened but the fast blooming and falling cycle of the flowers. Until…

_ Crack. _

When the noise echoed around him, Keith stopped breathing. Was that… Was that really going to happen if he didn’t get surgery? He swallowed on nothing, his throat suddenly disturbingly dry. He noticed that the evolution on the ribcage had stopped while he was distracted, and as soon as he focused back on it, it continued going.

The next rib took a while to break, only one fracture taking place for a considerate period of time, although the pressure the stem was applying onto the bones was worryingly clear. It was quicker after the second one, the structure giving in. Cracks were spread all over, and Keith felt like if he simply touched it, lightly, it’d fall apart.

It stopped, staying the same for one minute, or whatever - keeping track of time was hard there. Surely, it was confusing: how was it staying together, all ruptured and destroyed. Maybe the stem was keeping it in place, Keith thought. He’d still be believing in that hypothesis if, in the second after that, the bones hadn’t fallen into small pieces on the ground.

He sat up. His shirt was drenched in sweat and his hair, sticking to the damp spots on his face. His heartbeat was way too fast for anyone’s liking, and his breathing was raspy and hard, too slow, but too desperate for air. Keith swallowed on nothing and fixed himself on the mattress, focusing to calm down, neutralize his pulse. After a series of cut-off short, deep breaths, he sort of managed to, and let himself close his eyes and curve his back, ignoring posture completely.

He was in his room now. All was real, the pain in his chest and the flowers were real, and he couldn’t argue with this reality. He had to roll with it. And he could’ve said without lying, at that moment, that he was utterly happy being in this world he couldn’t change to fit his own liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave comments and kudos if you liked it~
> 
> Also, if you ever want to talk about sheith, you can hit me up on twitter, where I'm coIItron (double i's)! I'm always there!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about time, huh?  
> sorry for disappearing. i had to work on other fics, school started again, and i couldn't get myself to sit down and write this.  
> it's done, though! special thanks to alice for proofreading!

The alarm clock on Keith’s bedside table said it was 3AM. His head was buzzing awake, and couldn’t be turned down. He felt better, much better than the day before. Focusing on things wasn’t so difficult anymore, his breathing was steady and so was his heartbeat. If you ignored the pain in his chest, everything was back to normal. Thankfully.

Sighing, he noticed there was basically nothing to do now. His friends were asleep, he couldn’t leave the room at 3AM, so he had to stay inside, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like to be ‘locked’ somewhere, even more somewhere small like his dorm room. He usually wasn’t the type to spend afternoons or nights on his laptop, watching movies, shows, anime or whatever. Pidge had said once that, if he started watching anime, he wouldn’t stop, so he’d chosen to stay away from that. From time to time, out of severe boredom, he watched a movie or two, usually action movies, or about space exploration. Fun and all, but not something he’d choose to do regularly.

Trying to not give into that option, Keith stood up and hit the lights, and the bright white lights blinded him for a few moments. Coughing, he rubbed his eyes and yawned, walking over to his desk and reaching out to the shelves above it, and some of the books in it. He pulled out The Hobbit, one of his favourite books, and walked back to his bed, slowly sitting down, the pillow put parallel to the wall, and so he rested his back against it.

He opened the book in its first page, skipping the introduction, and started reading the same story he’d read so many times. He wasn’t a book person, at all, but some books conquered all types of people -  _ classics.  _ If The Hobbit wasn’t a classic, along with Lord of The Rings, well, Keith didn’t know what was. They were books that stuck through many generations, written in the 30s and 40s, and still famous in modern times. Fantasy books usually did that, when they were also very creative and well-written.

Five, maybe six pages into the book, Keith noticed he hadn’t captured any of the story that far. Although his eyes flicked around the pages and went through the words, he wasn’t soaking them in. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, holding back a sigh, and went back to the beginning. He tried again, focusing on the words more, this time.

Fifteen pages in, it became clear to him that he just wasn’t in the mood for reading.

Keith gave up, then. He closed the book and set it on his nightstand, rubbing his hands together and cupping them close to his lips when he started coughing, roses slipping from his mouth smoothly, almost rhythmic.

They were quite cute, to be honest. Surprisingly dry and in a very good state, for something that went through his respiratory system to get there, on his hands. All the petals were very smooth, dark red like blood, irregular, curved and full of those little veins that rose petals have. Only the flowers came out when he coughed, never stem or thorns. Keith was pretty sure he didn’t even  _ have  _ thorns, because he hadn’t been bleeding at all, nor feeling stings of pain from inside, like thorns cause.

For a second, Keith wondered if that meant anything. Lots of people suffer from one-sided love, and don’t get Hanahaki. Maybe it was just destiny being cruel to him, because he was always so cold, ignoring his feelings - well, love was a  _ weakness _ , so he couldn’t help it -, so it wanted to make sure he and the world would be aware of how he had feelings too,  _ romantic  _ and  _ sexual  _ feelings towards someone. It was basically rubbing the fact that he loved someone in anyone’s faces.

It was all so  _ stupid. _

He couldn’t wait to get this done with. Get surgery, remove the  _ stupid  _ roses and the  _ stupid  _ feelings, and just live a normal life again. Everything was getting fucked up because of the disease, and he just wished things would go back to usual already. Not that he couldn’t deal with the current situation, he just didn’t like it.

Well, he didn’t like a lot of things.

 

-

 

Before the sun even rose, Keith decided he had to go out. He was already way past bored of his room and his stuff, and breathing in dry, fresh desert air was, maybe, a good choice of how to start the day. Watching the sunrise in the desert was also a very nice thing, so why not combine both, right?

Decided and boosted with energy, he took a shower quickly and rushed out of his room, still pushing his arms into his jacket, but with the motorbike keys in his pants’ back pocket.

As soon as he had that engine roaring underneath him, Keith felt alive again. It was quite shocking, what simply turning on his motorcycle did to him. Probably, it had something to do with the sense of freedom, and the adrenaline that rushed through his body once he was on the vehicle, ready to go anywhere.

He didn’t go to the shack, as usual; instead, he just rode through the desert, looking for the best, highest stop he could get to, where the sight of the sunrise would look the best. He didn’t have a lot of time, so he just tightened his grip on the handlebars and sped up, a slight idea of a good place in his mind.

Cliff’s edge. Keith loved standing right there, the East right in front of him, along with the seemingly infinite desert, his feet on the very tip of the rocks - he could fall to certain death at any minute. He never did but, well, he could.

Clouds started turning orange far away, in the horizon, and Keith sat down, running a gloved hand through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his face just for them to cover his forehead again. He swallowed and tilted his head, feeling a slight melancholy, staring down at the infinite loneliness and dryness of the desert.

Although he’d seen it a few times already, watching the sun as it rose a gigantic orange circle in the sky, throwing light over sand and rocks, was a gorgeous thing. Made you feel special, because you were there. You were alive and the world was too, and you had the privilege of witnessing such a… Miracle, some would say. Something so fantastic, sounded better to Keith.

It got warmer and brighter by the second, not too warm, but Keith took off his jacket nonetheless, standing up and walking over to his motorbike. Roughly, he stuffed it into the bag fixed onto the back of the seat, and looked back at the East again. The sun, now fully above the horizon, seemed gentle and nice. Maybe it was Keith’s impression, because he’d seen it rise instead of just waking up to its light on his face, maybe not. Whatever it was, it shone just directly to the way back to college, illuminating the road. It was safe and comfortable like this, sunlit and bright.

He considered going to town and getting breakfast there, but he shrugged that off quickly, not willing to go all the way to the city, and to interact with people and spend -  _ waste  _ \- money. It was better just to eat something in the cafeteria, where he’d maybe, probably, have Pidge to talk to. Some entertainment, at least.

Keith looked back again, one last glance, and sighed, eyes instantly drawn by the glowing sphere in the sky. The sky was blue, but almost grey, and the sun was still slowly making its way upwards. It was nice, all of it. Being where he was, at that moment.

_ Nice. _

 

-

 

When he got back to his room, Keith was ready to pass out and sleep for hours again. Not in the ill, unhealthy way; just in the normal sleep-admiring way. Most people love sleep and, for this one, Keith wasn’t an exception.

He was sweaty from the warmth outside, that only increased as he rode back to campus. After pushing his hair back while looking in the mirror, it stayed in place, leaving finger trails behind. Sighing, he took his shirt off and threw himself into bed, the cold sheets very receptive at first. As soon as they warmed up, though, he kicked them out of the mattress and swallowed hard, coughing out wet roses and waving his hand to ventilate himself. It was spring still, how was it already so hot? It wasn’t even 8AM!

Keith sat up on the bed and tangled his legs, quickly pushing his hair together into his hand and wrapping an elastic band around it with the other. The tiny ponytail in place and keeping the hair from sticking to his neck or whatever skin, his cheek, his ear,  _ whatever. _

Falling back into the mattress, Keith stared at the ceiling and relaxed his shoulders, the tension leaving with a sigh. His life was boring, when he thought too much about it. Even with the flowers. He was just another college student, he literally didn’t do  _ anything _ other than live, breathe, eat, and study. Maybe that’s what the roses were there for - to shake things up, make something interesting. Monotony was as bored of him as he was bored of it.

The ceiling stared back, and Keith started to find patterns in the plain white paint. Made up by his mind, probably, but at that dizzying moment of wanting to sleep he could swear they were there. He really did want to sleep, his head weighed so much against the pillow, he felt like it was about to tear a hole through it. Slowly, gradually, his eyes closed, and the patterns on the ceiling became rhythms in his head, lulling him, careful tones taking care of him. Before he fell asleep, he thought to himself, he felt warm. Inside, outside, all around him. He felt warm, safe, and so, so sleepy.

 

-

 

_ bzzt, bzzt, bzzt _

Keith’s eyes darted open, and he groaned as he rubbed them and rolled around in bed, messily grabbing his phone from the bedside table and failing once before finally answering the call.

“Hi…?” He mumbled, mouth swollen and drooly.

“I’m outside your room,” he heard Pidge’s voice reply. “Open up. I’ve been calling you for the past 20 minutes, I’m already past impatient.”

“Okay, I’m going. B--”

Before he could even finish his bye, Pidge hissed a  _ “hurry up”  _ and finished the call. Blinking twice and groaning as he slowly stood up, Keith took a couple steps towards the door, fiddled with the key and opened the door. Pidge entered as soon as there was enough space for them to, and jumped onto the bed, crossing their legs and putting their bag on their lap.

“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty. Actually, not that beautiful,” they frowned, looking up at Keith’s face while sliding some books and a notebook out of their backpack.

“Shut up, I just woke up.”

“You went to bed before dinner yesterday. What do you mean, you just woke up? Did you hibernate?”

“No, I…” he yawned and rubbed his eyes, setting his pillow on the wall and resting his back against it. “I woke up really early, went to watch the sunrise, came back and fell asleep again.”

“So you  _ did  _ hibernate.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Keith sighed and raised an eyebrow, stretching his neck, throwing his head to one side, then the other. “What’re you here for?”

“Some studying. I mean, you’re the type that spends their whole weekend doing nothing and sleeping, and although you want to deny it, exams are coming. And well, they’re as important as, if not more than, your roses.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith coughed out a rose and threw it off the bed, resting his face on his hand and his elbow on his thigh.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Come on. Let’s study, revise, whatever.”

“I love your excitement, Keith,” Pidge smiled, fixed their glasses on their nose and breathed out an  _ “okay”  _ as they opened the book that rested in front of them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOP HELLO  
> i'm sorry. okay? i'm sorry. not even going to explain myself. i'll try to actually post more often now - i promise. but for now, take this tiny thing.

As time passed, Keith was only getting more and more sure about how the lack of events in his life was actually a bit worrying.

In a week, he did a total of nothing really fun or entertaining. He went to classes, studied, met up with his friends for breakfast, lunch, dinner. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. When he saw Shiro, he learned that he didn’t explode in roses anymore. He was getting better at all of that, gradually. Dealing with his crush, his feelings. His flowers.

Lance hadn’t stopped calling him Flowerboy, nor had he stopped asking who he had a crush on. Thankfully, Hunk was usually there, to tame him or even shut him up with a touch or a kiss. Pidge made him flower crowns whenever they were in his room, in their room, or simply whenever they had some wire in hand and Keith was there, coughing to provide red roses for the accessory. They were all quite pretty, and worked to distinguish him from normal people. Like a neon sign, saying  _ HERE’S THE GUY THAT COUGHS FLOWERS _ .

Keith could get used to all of that. He was, already. A routine was starting to settle, and he didn’t mind nothing extraordinaire happening. This way, things kept quiet. Normal. He could control it, he could understand it. He could choose if things would go some way or the other; his choices were mindful and everything that happened could be considered a direct consequence of them.

Although he wasn’t the sort of person to plan things - he worked a lot on gut instinct -, he liked to be in control of his business, most times. Not as a leader, but making the choices for his life. Choosing what would influence him. That didn’t always apply, but still, he’d count it as a personality trait. To be very honest, his friends told him he was pretty unpredictable, and he agreed.

He was his own organized mess. And that’s how he liked it best.

 

-

 

_ Later, later, later _ .  _ I have some more time, I can revise that _ .

Pidge had left two hours ago. Keith only had classes on the afternoon in the following day, so he said he was going to stay there a little bit more, but he’d leave soon. Just a little longer. Just these exercises. Just this chapter of whatever book it was.

Of course he didn’t obey his own rules.

Keith only  _ happened  _ to check the clock on his phone when it was almost 11 PM, which was curfew. Instantly, he gasped and stood up, chair scratching the floor and making noises that echoed all throughout the empty library. He knew someone - if there was still anyone - in the place had just turned their head around towards his sound, and he shook his head while looking down and getting his bag, to ‘scare’ the thoughts away.

Now, he had to  _ run. _

His own lungs were not being of any help, and Keith was already bending down to put his hands on his knees after he was barely out of the library. He coughed out roses, and they seemed endless until they finally ended. Trying to catch his breath - failing miserably, as usual.

Hand shaking slightly, he reached to his back pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up and the clock flashing an ultimatum at him.

_ 10:58 PM _

All he could do was hope his respiratory system would cooperate, gather up all he’d learned and practiced being in track teams since freshmen year of high school, and sprint. His dormitory wasn’t actually that far from the library, but it took ten, fifteen minutes or so for him to go from one to another in his regular, quickish walking pace. Considering his state, his disease, the distance, and the possibility that the janitor had already locked up the building, the probability of getting there in time was  _ minimal.  _ Still, it was necessary to remember that Keith was desperate, so he’d try anyway.

He did. His lungs started burning before he was a quarter of the way through, but after stumbling for a couple seconds, he kept going. He couldn’t stop - he didn’t have the time to.

When he got to the dorm,  _ finally,  _ he was huffing and holding back flowers that escaped through his lips even though he tried to keep them inside. The halls were lit up, so a spark of hope appeared deep within him. Without checking the time, he tried the doors.

Locked.

“FUCK!” He shouted, not caring about anyone nearby that could be sleeping - although he should, since it was a school night and anyone with a working brain was already in bed. Keith tried pushing the doors, again and again, as if they’d open just because he wanted it really, really bad. Obviously, it didn’t work, and he gave up when the lights turned off.

Sighing, he turned around and leaned against the wall, getting his phone. Unlocking the screen, the clock stared judgingly at him, white and bright.

_ 11:06 PM _

Yeah, it was definitely too late. Past too late. Anxiety started growing in the pit of his stomach, a dark sticky goo that drowned him from the inside. It came out as a mess of red roses Keith choked on.

_ First thing’s first _ , he thought, and started analysing the -  _ few  _ \- options he had. He could try to sleep in a bench or something, like a  _ fucking homeless person _ . He could look for someone that had also lost curfew, maybe someone who lived outside of campus that hadn’t went home yet. Also, if he didn’t take too long reflecting on his own misery, he could try to catch the janitor to open the door for him. Well, he wasn’t sure of those things, he’d never missed curfew before. Lance had, a few times, but Keith? No, he barely left his room, imagine miss curfew.

Interrupting his train of thought, he saw something. On the other side of campus, fair enough, and it was nothing but an undefined figure, but he was almost sure it was someone.  _ Someone!  _ Suddenly recovered from his unhealthy running to the dorm, he started sprinting through the grass, walking around benches and going on short stretches of stone path, getting shortcuts to get as quick as possible to whoever it was he’d seen.

Braking on his feet, heels digging into the ground beneath him, his eyes widened and lungs reacted as he approached the person. His wet coughing got heard, and so Keith was found.

“Hey, Keith. What are you doing here? It’s past curfew, shouldn’t you be in your dorm room?” Shiro asked, innocently, one eyebrow raised but an amused smile in his lips.

When he managed to stop coughing, Keith smiled bitterly and raised his head, looking up at the upperclassman. “I stayed too late in the library and--,” he choked and spit out a rosebud, getting irritated at it for a second, “now it’s past curfew. Can’t get in my dorm and all that.”

_ Why am I being so truthful? _

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Shiro chuckled, and Keith’s mildly aggressive body response was an intense blush mixed into a frown. “Well, you can sleep in my couch if you want. I mean, it’s better than whatever other option you’ve got, isn’t it?”

Keith cursed himself for being so in love with someone so nice, and with whom his paths just seemed to cross more and more and more.

Still, even though his lungs and ribs already complained, flowers tickling his throat, he wasn’t an idiot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. If you don’t mind.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NEW CHAPTER? IN A WEEK?  
> hell yeah. i was inspired - i hope i stay inspired.

Minimalist.

If Keith had to choose a word to describe Shiro’s flat, it’d probably be minimalist. He wasn’t sure if it was by choice, because whether he was almost graduating or not, Shiro was still a student, and college was fucking  _ expensive _ . It did look a bit like it, though - white walls, simple and few black, grey or white furniture. The only thing hung on the walls was a large constellation map in clear black framing, visible from the entrance. It immediately caught Keith’s eyes, and Shiro noticed.

“Nice, right?”

The sudden words made Keith jump, and roses came up his throat. As he nervously attempted to not let them out and to not dirty Shiro’s floor, they only intensified. He would’ve cursed a  _ fuck  _ under his breath if he  _ could  _ breathe. Instead, he just tried to catch all with his hands, waiting for his throat and mouth to be empty enough to give him an opportunity to apologize.

“Uh, do ya- Do you want some help there, buddy?” Shiro asked, seeming to be struggling with his words. Even more nervous, Keith shook his head a bit, trying to indicate his reply mid-flower outbreak. It was kinda difficult to be sure of his success rate.

He watched Shiro’s feet hurry into the flat, wandering somewhere he couldn’t see while crouching. Distracted, his focus went off the flowers and a pile of roses fell from his hands onto the polished white floor, and at that Keith couldn’t help but swear out loud, which ended on even more roses falling on the ground.  _ Fucking idiot,  _ he repeated mentally as he picked them up.

Shiro got back, and when Keith looked up, he met the older man holding a piece of cloth and wearing a sweetly tense smile on his face. “Can I- help you? You look like- uh,” he looked down, and instead of going on and on, he just kneeled and started helping the ill boy pick up the flowers and clean up his mess.

“Sorry,” Keith murmured, blushing. He didn’t need to speak too loudly to be heard, since they were so close to each other - he didn’t think he would  _ manage  _ to speak too loud, anyway.

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s not a big deal.”

“A-are you sure? I’m really sorry for making a mess, I--”

“It’s okay, Keith,” Shiro smiled and looked up to meet the boy’s eyes. “Don’t sweat it,” he winked.

Keith choked.

Thankfully, he recovered quickly, although he widened his eyes for a second, reprimanding himself and his instincts for ruining his attempts to be subtle about his crush. How could he, when his own body betrayed him like that?

“Well,” Shiro said as they both stood up and he made his way to the kitchen, Keith slowly following, “would you like something to drink? Water, tea, coffee…? While I get the couch ready, and everything.”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” the older man hummed as he washed the cloth clean after throwing the roses away. He moved swiftly, and his bionic arm would pass for a human one if the criteria were the way it moved - the fingers reproduced every stretch and bending of bones, muscle and skin, but with metal and whatever was inside the implant.

When he turned around and opened the fridge door, Keith’s lips parted at how little strength seemed to be put into the action, compared to how quickly the door opened. Well, judging by how muscular Shiro was, he shouldn’t be surprised, but still! Childish thoughts told him that he was doing it on purpose, just to make Keith even more absolutely smitten.

If that was the case, then he was succeeding.

 

-

 

“Make yourself comfortable.”

_ Kinda hard, big guy _ , Keith thought as he rubbed his neck, sitting down in a kitchen stool and spinning around to face the living room. Shiro was bent down next to the couch, putting down a duvet and basically making a bed for Keith to sleep in.

“So, have you gotten your flowers checked out?”

Keith needed a second to get back into reality before answering - he got lost in his daydreams way too often. “No, not yet. My exam’s on Friday.”

“Oh, I see. Friday, huh…” Shiro fell quiet for a few seconds, and then sighed, a smile stamping his face. “Cool.”

They were in silence for a minute or two - Shiro went to the hallway and came back holding a pillow, which he placed on the couch’s end. He hit it twice, as if fluffing it, and then turned around to look at Keith with a smile. The boy’s nervous reply was a blush, a rosebud and a tiny awkward smile.

“Do you want anything? If you want you can just,” Shiro said, pointing at the bed made in the couch, “sleep. Already.”

“I think I’m gonna do that. I’m kinda tired.”

“What time do you want me to wake you up tomorrow?”

“Whenever. When you go to campus, to class… Is fine. Fine.”

“Don’t you have classes early? I don’t really have anything until around nine thirty, so I’m going later, isn’t that a problem? I can wake up earlier if that’s needed.”

“Nah, I only have classes on the afternoon,” Keith said, jumping off from the stool and walking towards the couch, trying to stay as far as possible from Shiro without seeming odd. At least while he slept he didn’t have to engage in conversation and try not to embarrass the shit out of himself - which he ended up doing, anyway. He could just breathe, try not to die and rest.

Shiro walked to the hallway and Keith sneaked into the couch, finally making himself comfortable underneath the duvet, safe and warm. Shiro’s footsteps stopped, and Keith turned his head to look at him, who looked back and smiled, practically fondly.  _ No, not fondly. Pff, stop daydreaming, idiot.  _ He turned off the light, and Keith instantly lost all ability to  _ see  _ amidst the darkness.

“Good night, Keith,” he heard Shiro say, and then footsteps going away followed by a door opening and closing.

Nervous, he shifted in the bed until he was facing the ceiling, eyesight slowly adapting to the lack of light, form slowly building up around him, things taking shape and the flat fading out from black to dark greys. He closed his eyes and breathed in, and out, roses coming out right after that. He put them on the coffee table sloppily, as best as he could to avoid making a mess. Just something he could fix in the morning.

Oh, the morning. It seemed so far away. He felt like the past minutes, not even hour, weighed on him immensely. Finding Shiro at night and going to his flat and sleeping there and… So much. So much at once. At this rate, he’d be killed by his flowers before he could get surgery and remove them. Shiro definitely wasn’t helping, being the nice, sweet guy he was. Partly, Keith’s mind called him an asshole for acting so genuinely kind, but truly he was the far opposite of that. He was almost an angel, from what the younger man could see. Interesting and clever and loving and so many positive adjectives cramped up in one person.

Keith was ruined. He was lucky if he didn’t die before his surgery, if things like this kept happening. Meeting up with or just interacting with Shiro at all wasn’t healthy for him - he was at risk of death here, okay? He didn’t want to die. He was getting surgery because, as much as he liked Shiro, he knew he shouldn’t have hope and he  _ didn’t want to die. _

Keith didn’t want to die.

Was that so difficult to understand?

 

-

 

Keith woke up with the sound of the coffee maker beeping. His eyesight was blurry and his head and chest both hurt, one more than the other, but he couldn’t clearly tell which. Coughing out tiny morning roses, he sat up slowly, and his back hurt like hell.  _ Damn _ , what part of his body didn’t hurt?

His eyes looked over the kitchen aisle and caught Shiro, facing the counter, pouring coffee into a light grey mug. He wore a tank top and shorts, and Keith could see a couple of scars on his back, not totally shown by the fabric of the top. It wasn’t too revealing, actually. It didn’t trigger an unending chain of lung roses from Keith, like the smile Shiro gave him when he turned around did.

“Good morning,” Shiro said, voice only slightly altered by worry, as Keith was in the middle of coughing out his sloppy crappy flowers. It wasn’t an attack like he’d have before - good, he was dealing with it. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure,” he squealed when he managed to speak, spitting out roses into his hands.

Soon enough, there Shiro was, with a tiny bowl and two mugs on his hands. Firstly, he offered Keith the container, and he took the hint to put the flowers in there, then smiling, thankful. Shiro shrugged it off and sat down beside him, handing him a red mug that steamed black coffee.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want cream, or how much sugar, so I hope you like it. Everything’s in the kitchen if you want something else.”

The younger man tasted the beverage, and it was nice. Just like how he usually drank it. “It’s fine, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shiro smiled, sipping his drink and staring blankly at the floor. Lost in thoughts, Keith assumed. Naturally, he was curious, but he didn’t ask.

“Uh, sorry to bother, Shiro, but do you have somewhere I can plug my phone? It died, and I think my friends might’ve gotten worried-”

“It’s not a bother,” Shiro said, setting down his mug on the coffee table - where Keith  _ finally  _ noticed there were no flowers, no reminiscents of them either - and standing up. “C’mere, I have one in my room.”

Hesitant, Keith followed. He felt normal, his flowers weren’t acting up too wildly. It was odd, but he wasn’t bothered. Maybe his flowers weren’t acknowledging where he was, who he was with. They were acting as if he was home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I'M BACK  
> I'm focusing on this fic now. I have other projects in mind but they're for post-red roses. We're past halfway through. I'm not stopping until I get there.  
> (also sorry for the amount of pokémon in this chapter gosh)

Twenty unread messages and four missed calls.

Keith was glad his friends worried about him - it made him feel like he actually belonged somewhere. It made him feel like something more than a good-for-nothing orphan that no one wants to adopt because he basically calls for trouble.

He called back Pidge - they were the author of three of his missed calls, and eleven of his unread texts.

“KEITH! Fuck, Keith, thank God you’re okay you weren’t in your room and you weren’t answering your phone we all got worried, where the hell are you?”

“Pidge. Breathe,” he said, holding back a chuckle. “I’m fine. I didn’t catch curfew, but I found Shiro in campus and he let me crash in his couch.”

“Oh, really? Aw, that’s great.” You could tell they really meant it. Keith was one hundred percent aware that, if they knew Shiro was his crush, they would be teasing the  _ hell  _ out of Keith right then, right there. “You’re coming to class?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yup. Bye, Pidge.”

“Bye.”

He ended the call, putting his phone down and turning around. Jumping was inevitable when he saw Shiro standing by the threshold, leaning, arms crossed, a slight smile sitting on his face.

“You and Pidge really are close, huh?”

“Yeah… I think it’s thanks to them that I haven’t been expelled, that I haven’t dropped out, either.”

“Really? How’d you two meet?”

“It was sophomore year of high school, I’d just transferred to a new school, and they and their brother were in the principal’s office when I went around to talk to him, get my schedule and everything. We engaged in conversation and everything, and then me and Pidge ended up great friends.”

Shiro’s smile widened, and he looked down. His mouth opened and closed once, twice, as if he was choosing his words. “That’s precious.”

Keith’s face flushed and he choked on roses, that weren’t as abundant as before but still bothersome. Shiro also didn’t seem as worried as before, as if he’d gotten used to it, kind of. He just hurried to get his trash can and put it next to Keith, where he proceeded to drop all his flowers.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s fine. And not your fault.”

“It is-”

“You didn’t choose to be ill, Keith. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry.”

 

-

 

Could the scenario be more fucking awkward.

There was some inaudible effort of Shiro’s to melt the awkwardness away, and it was Keith’s fault that it was still there, but- He couldn’t help it. It’d been easier to be in the car with his crush the night before, now he felt exposed and as stupid as ever as the sunlight hit him through the window of the vehicle.

Shiro seemed to go slightly out of his way to be nice to Keith - didn’t he go out of his way to be nice to everyone? -, he even put on music with asking ‘do you mind’ first and making sure that Keith was aware that ‘if you don’t like it, you can say it, I can change the song or playlist’. The songs were great, the car was comfortable, the A/C was fine,  _ Shiro was one hundred percent spectacular.  _ But where were the news?

The nervous feeling destroying Keith’s stomach from within peaked when the Pokémon theme song started. His flowers giggled, ‘aw, he’s a dork! he likes Pokémon just like you, keith’, but his brain flipped the chaos switch, ‘no, no, no, do not sing. this was probably an accident and it’ll be worse for everyone if you start SCREAMING lyrics from a kids’ show’. His stomach kept nibbling on itself and giving him this empty, stressful, anxious feeling.

When the lyrics started, Keith felt Shiro shifting his gaze from the street to him, then to the street again. He was singing.

“What, Keith, don’t you know the lyrics?”

Keith froze. “I- I do, but--”

“Come on, sing along. Nothing to be ashamed of,” Shiro smiled, nudging Keith with his elbow.

The two first verses were already over, but Keith hesitantly caught up to the chorus.

“Pokémon, gotta catch ‘em all,” he said, quietly, almost chuckling. He was flustered and embarrassed, but Shiro’s smile widened, encouraging.

“It’s you and me,” the older man sang, almost laughing, but not. “I know it’s my destiny, Pokémon!”

“Oh, you’re my best friend, in a world we must defend,” Keith smiled, singing a bit louder now.

“Pokémon, gotta catch ‘em all!” The two of them said, together, unison. “A heart so true, our courage will pull us through… You teach me, and I’ll teach you, Pokémon! Gotta catch ‘em- Gotta catch ‘em all!”

Keith burst into laughter halfway through the song, and Shiro chuckled too, still singing and driving. He was a dork, just like Keith. He wasn’t some superior, overly mature being. He wasn’t a god.

He did seem like so to Keith, though. Too often. He seemed unreachable, untouchable.

He wasn’t. He was just in Keith’s reach.

 

-

 

Before Keith left the car, Shiro asked for his number.

‘To reach you out, to invite you to hang out,’ he’d said.

Keith saw his fingers trembling as he typed the digits into the other man’s phone.

Shiro smiled and thanked him.

After he left the car and walked away from the parking lot, Keith hid behind the first building he found and spilled flowers into a trashcan like juice spilled out from a full-to-the-very-tip jar.

_ Pathetic. _

He scrambled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pidge’s number - he knew it by heart. It was his best friend’s number, after all. How couldn’t he know it?

“Hey, mullet,” Lance answered.

“Where’s Pidge?”

“In the bathroom. They left their phone here. Why?”

“Where are you guys?”

“Where are  _ you _ ?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

“Lance,” Keith said, pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“What, Flowerboy?”

“Ugh. I hate you. I missed curfew.”

“I know,” Lance chanted, and Keith thanked God he wasn’t right next to his friend or he would strangle him, right that instant.

“Fuck off, Lance.”

“Damn, no need to be rude, mullet. Unbelievable, children these days…”

“You’re annoying as hell, you know that, right?”

It wasn’t totally Lance’s fault. Keith was a hothead - everyone knew that. It was easy to get him fired up.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s my pleasure.”

Clenching his teeth, Keith held back from swearing at his friend - again. Only one person could ruin his- his  _ Shiro hangover _ , the after effects of sleeping in Shiro’s flat, and all that jazz. Only one person.

_ Lance. _

Without bothering to say ‘bye’ or something similar, Keith brought the phone away from his face and pressed the big red button to end the call. He could just go to his dorm room, he’d meet up with his friends later. He didn’t have to know where they were, it wasn’t an immediate business. It was free - all free.

His mind was a mess, he had no clue of what sense the things he was thinking had. He felt dizzy, almost numbed by his overnight experience. He vomited another flood of roses and groaned, chest hurting more than it had all along.

-

 

Everything went well.

Normal, fine. Expected. The night had been an exception, and now Keith was back to his regular, boring life. After his classes had ended, Keith invited Pidge over, and soon enough the two of them were in his dorm room, sharing headphones. Pidge was sitting on the floor and reviewing notes, going through flash cards, reading textbooks, bobbing their head quietly to whatever rhythm the current song had. Keith was lying on his bed, staring at the blank white ceiling, head resting on his hands as he thought of the most random things, stopping here and there to cough out a few stray roses.

Who’d win in a productivity contest?

Keith should be studying. He always should - sure, he was good at most things naturally, he was smart,  _ especially  _ smart -, but he rarely did. When he did, it was an experience similar to the night before’s, where he would just stop whatever he was doing and study, study, study, swallow content and knowledge as if he’d been starving for years and that’s all that could satiate him.

After the experience of losing curfew and what that brought him, even though he was in his room, he was not going to study,  _ thank you _ .

He was thinking of glowing aliens when a song started drilling through his head, and Pidge was singing along to it.

“I wanna be, the very best, like no one ever was… To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause,” Pidge sang, smiling, looking back at Keith, expecting him to sing along.

The morning came back rushing to his mind, Shiro encouraging him to sing along, the two of them laughing and singing and just… Enjoying each other’s company.

Shiro.

Enjoying his company.

Instead of bursting into song, Keith sat up and started coughing aggressively, roses coming out in a swirling chaos. It’d hurt less if someone cut his chest open and removed the flowers one by one, because the process hurt, he felt exhausted with every rose that scratched its way out through his trachea. Worried, Pidge unplugged the headphones and jumped onto the bed, lightly tapping Keith’s back and picking up his roses with their other hand, their glasses slipping down their nose.

The flowers he coughed got sparse, coming here and there, which didn’t make his friend less worried. To lift the distress off of their shoulders, he tried a smile and fixed their glasses up their nose.

“I’m fine,” Keith said, stopping to spit out a rose smaller than the ones he’d been expelling beforehand. “I’m better” -rose- “now.”

“Are you really?”

Was he really?

“Yeah,” he leaned back, and played with a petal in one of the first roses. “I think so.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha bloody finally.  
> sorry for taking so long! in the beginning it was because of mental issues, then just plain... procrastination mixed with writer's block. here it is, though - and i promise that the next chapters will be good. i hope you will all like it!

Keith kind of forgot that he’d be having an x-ray taken.

He was aware of talking to a doctor about how he was feeling, and the back of his mind knew all throughout that he would have to go through the chest x-ray procedure, but he’d sort of forgotten. When a nurse guided him through the white, cold halls, explaining the procedure, he  _ suddenly  _ remembered. So yeah, that wouldn’t be his last check before the surgery. He’d have to come again to discuss the results with a doctor.

The nurse took him into a tiny area, just before the special room where the actual thing would happen. She instructed him to take his shirt off and put on a hospital gown, and so he obeyed. He felt a bit awkward, like that, but his mind ran on autopilot.

He could process all of this later.

Everything, from entering the room with that large metal arm and the x-ray camera, to leaving, shirt back on, was kind of blurry. He felt his eyes unfocused, he felt his head dizzy, and he felt his chest aching  _ so bad. So bad.  _ It was like the flowers and the stem pressed against his ribs and lungs, closing his chest, squeezing tight. Keith felt sort of like he’d pass out but, luckily, he didn’t.

Out in the halls, he had to wait until he’d be able to talk a bit with a doctor, to check on how he was doing, if he’d need painkillers or some other medication for the next weeks, when the roses and the disease would probably get worse. The cold, impersonal white and blue halls were comforting, actually. He bought a Snickers bar in the vending machine and sat back on the plastic chairs, munching aggressively on the candy.

Maybe the chocolate would make him happy, stimulating serotonin and all of that. Maybe it’d help with the pain in his chest and the stress, slight anxiety, in his mind. Keith felt  _ weird.  _ Like the disease was his curse, caused by him and him only, no external influence. No Shiro. No crush. No love. Just Keith and his deserved punishment.

_ For what?  _ The serotonin argued. Fair enough. What did he do wrong, after all-?

“Keith Kogane?” A doctor called, poking her face out of the door for her office. She had short hair and warm eyes. Keith stood, and she smiled sweetly as he walked inside. “Hello. I’m going to ask you a few questions, then check your blood pressure, breathing, and pulse. Okay?”

Keith nodded. There probably wasn’t going to be anything too intrusive or that he didn’t expect. Nothing he wouldn’t be ready for.

_ How are you feeling?  _ Alright.  _ Does it hurt?  _ Yeah.  _ How often do you cough out flowers?  _ Depends.  _ Have you spent time along with your loved one?  _ Not a lot, but more than before.  _ How has that influenced the disease?  _ I think it’s only worse because it’s developing, with time and all.  _ Can you breathe properly?  _ Yes.  _ Have you been doing tougher exercise?  _ No.  _ Did you use to?  _ Yes.

His answers cut short, going from longer explanations to simple and brief  _ yes _ ’s,  _ no _ ’s, and a few  _ depends _ . They were all precise questions, except for the fourth one, that bothered him a bit. Ached him a bit, in his heart, not his lungs. Unusual.

The physical tests were quite harmless. He had to take his shirt off, of course, and sit on the medical bed by her desk. She pressed on the little bumps of the stem and asked how much it hurt, on a scale of one to ten - twos and threes. She checked his breathing, pulse, and blood pressure, and they were all fine. When they sat back down and he slid his shirt over his head, she simplified the whole exam into a few sentences, that made Keith feel like he’d lost so much of his time.

“It looks like you’re fine. If the pain becomes too much, you can take regular painkillers. You’ll come back in a couple of days, or whenever the nurses contact you to say your x-ray is ready. I’ll see you soon,” she said, standing up and leading him to the door. He didn’t hesitate in leaving, and she waved for a few seconds before closing the door again.

 

-

 

“How was it? How are you?”

Keith sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t feel one-hundred percent, but that was more emotional than physical, and a condition of his disease. He’d get better soon. He was with his friends now, and he was about to get food, he’d get better.

“It was nothing much. I’m only getting the x-ray results in a few days, so maybe I’ll have to lose morning classes on Monday, Tuesday, too? One of the two. Which kinda sucks, since finals are coming around and all, but I’ll manage.”

He paused, and Pidge raised their eyebrows, quietly telling him to go on. Lance nudged him in the ribs and he groaned, coughing out roses onto the tabletop.

“I’m fine. If it aches overbearingly I can take normal painkillers, and other than that, it’s all right.”

“Well that’s…” Lance rolled his eyes and bent forward, resting his elbows on the table and darting his gaze at Keith. “...underwhelming. But what else to expect from our  _ fantabulous  _ Flowerboy, isn’t that right?”

Keith wasn’t in the state of mind to retort, but Hunk reprehended Lance for him. “Lance! Come on, be nicer.”

“Sure, love. Sorry, Keith. You know I’m joking,” he flashed a grin, and Keith breathed out a laugh.

“Yeah. You are.”

They were all talking, chuckling, eating, and it was fun. Keith loved that - even with Lance’s occasional not-so-jokey teases, Pidge’s rare but existing troubled days and Hunk (‘s nothing. Hunk was amazing. In every aspect), they always got along, always had enjoyable times. The rarest thing was for them to hang out and not have fun, really.

Amidst laughter, Keith threw his head halfway up and his eyes fell on the line spilling from the kitchen, and there Shiro was, in all his upperclassman glory. He’s looking at Keith, a wide smile splitting his face, and he waved for a second before Keith  _ had to  _ look down, swallowing his food in a rush before choking and spitting out a pile of flowers, looking purpler than usual from his grape juice.

“Keith!” Pidge called, confused.

“Hey, Keith, are you alright?” Hunk put his hand over Keith’s elbow, worried, and Keith wished he could at least breathe out an answer, but fun fact!  _ He couldn’t fucking breathe. _

“He’s fine.” Lance said, and the tone of his voice was so indifferent and plain it was almost scary. There was still that tiny hint of teasing that kept his friends sane, but it was odd, either way.

Keith needed a second to recover, stop coughing out roses, but soon enough he straightened his back and smiled, weakly. “I’m fine.”

 

-

 

Most of the conversation that happened during the rest of the lunch break, or at least while they finished eating, was between Pidge and Hunk. They talked about numbers and science, school stuff. Lance kept quiet, which was kind of weird even if it wasn’t his favourite subject - he was a smart guy, and could talk about most things -, and Keith just ate, a blush permanent on the top of his cheeks.

They left, and Pidge and Hunk walked in front, as they headed for the same class. When they got out of the dining hall and walked into the outside area of the campus, Lance stopped walking, and so did Keith. They parted ways there, but Lance seemed like he still had something to tell his friend.

“Shiro, huh? Why am I not surprised?”

Once again, Keith choked, but only a couple of roses came out, as if his storage was empty. Lance chuckled and grinned, back to his normal self. Keith wondered if he’d kept that inside for all that time.

“You’ve got a crush on  _ Shiro.  _ Wow. Nice taste, to be honest.”

“How do you- How did you-”

“Come on. You look at the guy and cough flowers. It’s not really all that  _ hidden. _ ”

“Shut up,” Keith said, face redder than he wished it was. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. “Please don’t tell Hunk and Pidge. And don’t, uh,” he fiddled with his belt loops. He didn’t know why he was so nervous all of a sudden, but maybe it was the prospect of Lance maybe ruining everything, whatever everything was.

“I won’t,” Lance’s grin widened, and he started walking backwards, towards the building where his next class took place. “Come on, I’m not that bad of a friend.”

Walking, by himself, across the grass, Keith thought he was right. Even though Lance knew, that wouldn’t be of any harm, if you disconsider all the teasing that would come;  _ so much teasing,  _ he thought, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans.

Considering all that he was going through? This was just another thing he could perfectly, easily, deal with.


	15. Chapter 15

After he finished his last class, since it was Friday, he went to hang out in the campus lawn during his last period. It wasn’t one of those disgustingly warm days, it was alright, and Keith’s pale and everything,  _ so.  _ He figured, why not sit outside, even if it’s under the shade of a tree? Maybe it would make him look more normal. Maybe being in nature would help with the plant growing within him…

Speaking of the flowers, his phone buzzed on his lap, and he turned it for the screen to face him and read the notification that had popped up.

_ Hey, Keith! How was your exam? _

Oh, God, God, God. Even though getting a text from Shiro did kind of shock him, he still smiled like a happy dog - the big, eager ones, with wagging tails and drippy tongues -, genuine and stupid, and it didn’t leave his face while he spit out a series of roses onto the grass, considering if he’d eventually pick them up or leave them to rot and… Decompose, and stuff. Biology wasn’t Keith’s specialty.

_ it was fine. i’ll survive the disease, so yay, i guess. _

Obviously, he spent three minutes reading his text over and over before sending it, and also simply waiting, trying not to seem overly excited or whatever.

Shiro, apparently, didn’t care about that, and answered within the first minute.

_ Wanna hang out in the shack later on? _

Keith’s cheeks grew warm and his smile grew wider, his throat tickled with the tiniest rosebud ever, that he practically  _ blew  _ out. Soft, and fluffy. Romantic. Disgusting, stupid feelings, ain’t that right? He was projecting his feelings. His dumb crush. Sighing, he reminded himself that, if Shiro liked him back, he  _ wouldn’t  _ have his roses in the first place, and answered.

_ sure. meet you there? _

_ Yeah. I have some things to sort out still, but I’ll meet you there later. Could you maybe get us some stuff to eat? Snacks, maybe drinks? _

_ yeah, i’ll buy food. can you get beer? _

For a second, Keith feared he was pushing too far. Maybe he was seeming too casual, too intimate for such a recent ‘friendship’. He worried, but that faded once he got his reply, which sounded like just what Keith expected would be a normal reply for Shiro.

_ You can’t drink legally, Keith. _

Deciding not to bother and just be true to what he’s like, Keith answered with a simple  _ and? _

_ Well okay, fine. See you later _

Shiro gave in easier than Keith had expected, for the golden boy, the professional and responsible TA Keith thought he knew. Deep down, Keith wanted Shiro to be a little different than the ‘professional and responsible TA’. A bit more fun.

_ see ya _

 

-

 

On his motorbike, Keith rode to town and bought cheap snacks. Crisps, cookies, and some other packaged goodies that certainly wouldn’t do good for neither of their healths, but he shrugged and thought  _ fuck it  _ \- it’s not like his was one-hundred percent, anyway.

He then proceeded to make his way to the shack, the wheels of the motorcycle bringing up sand and dust in the rocky desert all the way there. It was all so quiet around there, he felt at home, somewhat. Keith had always been a fan of the outside, specifically places like this. Empty, vast, and silent.

He parked the bike right next to the house, and while making his way down and around to get in, he realised he’d never  _ actually  _ been inside the shack. Of course, he expected it to look like in his dream, but that was a totally imagined place that could be totally unlike the real space, right? No reason for them to be alike.

There really was no reason for them to be the same, but they were. The door was left unlocked - by Shiro? someone else? -, so when Keith pushed it, it quickly gave in. Everything was just like his subconscious had built it, and it was odd and unreal. Tiny details were different, like real life being a bit dustier and darker, but that was easily fixable. He tapped the radio, the cassette player, and blew on some posters to clean them up, poorly. The entire ambient smelled just a little bit like mold, but it was a very far away scent, and once he got into the kitchen, it changed.

The kitchen felt like it was recently used. It was a bit warmer than the rest of the place, but maybe that was because of the direct sunset light coming through the big window. The room looked old and ever-so-slightly retro, with the orange-lit big fridge and the wooden cabinets. He put the snacks on top of the counter, not daring to look into the cabinets and the refrigerator. Keith didn’t live there, he had no right to peek into anything.

After setting everything in the place he figured they went, he walked back to the living room and took a 360°. Everything was  _ cool _ , like what he’d expected. He threw himself on the couch and it sank underneath him, the cushions welcoming his figure, almost fusing with his body. It was  _ very  _ comfortable, he noticed, and immediately, his muscles started complaining. The day had been long, from waking up early to go to the medical exam, to going back to school, talking and… Everything. He wasn’t exhausted, or fatigued, or anything, but- Shiro said he was still going to take a while, right? Keith could take a short nap, for sure.

Yawning, he decided on it. Letting his ass dig deeper into the sofa cushions, making him almost shrink against the fabric, he closed his eyes and slowly, slowly, drifted away.

 

-

 

Everything looked blurry, and Keith could barely discern shapes in the very dim light. He felt his conscience pulling at him, nagging him, poking until he couldn’t try to sleep any longer. Obviously, his back ached from the awful nap position, and his mind was very confused. What was going on and how long did he sleep for were the two main questions popping up in the haze.

Once his sight got used to the darkness, he told apart Shiro, sitting in an armchair with a beer bottle in his hand and something in the other -  _ a book?  _ No, it couldn’t be, but maybe his phone… Without remembering greetings, Keith coughed out a couple of harmless petals and tried, “Hey, when’d you…”

_ And  _ his brain finally started working properly.

He straightened up quickly, sitting up, and  _ barfed  _ a series of full-formed roses. Shiro chuckled, but Keith was too desperate and embarrassed to smile along. “Shit, I’m sorry, sorry I uh-”

“Relax, it’s okay,” the older man smiled, and  _ damn him.  _ “I just got here, like, ten minutes ago or something. Don’t worry.”

“But I really am so sorry-”

“It’s okay, alright? I forgive you, there’s not even much to forgive. I saw you brought food.”

“I did, yeah, I hope it’s alright.”

Widening his smile, Shiro nodded. “Yup! And I brought beer as you requested, mr. outlaw.”

The flower flood had stopped, so Keith was less…  _ Less  _ now. He hated the fact that he’d unconsciously created a name for moments like that, where he’d cough and wouldn’t stop. And it sounded awfully like a nickname Pidge or Lance would give to it - just less fun, because it was created by Keith, who wasn’t as good with puns -, which definitely meant he was spending  _ too much time  _ with his friends. Was that even a thing, too much time with his friends?

“Thanks,” Keith sighed, considering standing up and heading to the kitchen to get himself a bottle of beer. Make some effort himself, for once.

Neck and spine irradiating this almost painful and definitely unpleasant sensation, he threw the blanket away from his lap and legs - oh my God, a blanket. He hadn’t noticed. Shiro… Oh my  _ God  _ \- and, blushing and coughing a few spare roses and petals, stood up. He waddled his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. This once, he tried to be a nice guy, a controlled person, and focused his eyes straight on the queued beer bottles, getting one. He opened it and grabbed a Doritos bag, then walking back to the living room.

“Do you want to play something?” Shiro wasn’t holding his phone -  _ bingo  _ \- anymore, and had set his beer bottle on the end table nearby. “I’ve got some board and card games there, if ya’ wanna check.”

Keith hadn’t sat down yet, so instead he just went over to where Shiro had pointed. He put the bag of chips on the floor along with his beer and opened the door of the cabinet below the old TV. He was never much of a board games person. He’d played a few games with the usual deck of cards when he was a teenager, with Pidge and their brother, but usually Keith played video games - in the Holts’ company, especially. So, to choose from the range of names he had only, at most, heard of, it was bit of challenge. He settled for the deck of cards on top of the pile. It was clearly old, with detailed art on the back, so he made sure he carefully dealt with it.

“Classic,” Shiro smiled and commented as he slid from the armchair to sit on the floor besides the coffee table, swiping off dust from the tabletop.

They played slap jack and settled for a best-out-of-three system. Even though he felt kind of ill, all tired and sleepy, throughout the rounds, Keith won the first one, Shiro the second and Keith the last, smiling dumbly when Shiro congratulated him and coughing out roses that numbed his throat - it was so over the flowers, it felt rubbed raw.

Even as exhausted as he felt, Keith put his brain to work. He could see that it was dark outside, everything past the window pitch black until the desert faded into city and university up on the horizon. With his eyelids weighing down as much as they were, he figured he wouldn’t be able to drive back to college without crashing into something or falling to the ground in the middle of the road. He was staring blankly at the back of a card on the table, drowning in thought, when Shiro interrupted him.

“Hey, isn’t it kind of late?”

Keith raised his head, blinked a couple of times and nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“You came here on your motorbike, didn’t you?” In reply, Keith nodded again, the movement dangerously lulling. “It’s too late to drive back to town on that. You can sleep here, if you want - I was going to, anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course! You must be tired,” he smiled understandingly, and Keith couldn’t help but think  _ oh, so it’s visible  _ before coughing a few roses, “so why not?”

“I don’t want to bother, Shiro-”

“Nah, what are you going on about? It’s fine. C’mon.”

Keith took a swig of his beer, the last one, and sighed, shoulders and neck and head all slumping forward in defeat. A very jaded defeat.

They both stood up and Keith ran his hand through his hair, taking soft locks between his fingers as a way to soothe himself.  _ It’s alright, it’s a friendly thing, you’ve slept over at his flat once already… _

“D’you wanna sleep on the bed?” Shiro asked so casually, Keith almost didn’t realise that it wasn’t as simple of a question as his tone pretended it to be.

“What?! No! No, no, you sleep on there,” he replied, eyes wide, almost stuttering.

“It’s a king-size. I can sleep on there and you can too.”

“ _ No _ ,” Keith mumbled, unable to keep eye contact with Shiro any longer. There were already flowers poking at his throat. “I can sleep on the couch. I mean, I want to. It’s fine.”

The grin tugging at Shiro’s lips was sweet, but still, Keith was more stubborn than Shiro could ever be kind.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Keith turned down Shiro’s last try, and looked around quickly. “Hey, where’s the bathroom?”

“Through the door next to the fridge.” He pointed to the doorway. The shack was so small, almost cluttered, that Shiro only had to lean a bit to the side to have a clear view of bathroom or the bedroom, both accessible through the kitchen.

On his way to the bathroom, Keith threw away the empty bag of chips and put the beer bottle on top of the counter, next to the sink, unsure of where he would throw away glass.  _ If  _ he would throw away glass.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, results of overthinking, and quickly used the bathroom. When he looked at his image in the mirror, he noticed that he definitely looked tired - face pale, dark circles deep, as if he was a vampire or an alien, drained of vital energy. The way to the sofa seemed longer now that he went back to it than when he was going away from it, and maybe that was just his fatigued impression. Probably.

He figured he hadn’t taken too long, but still, the couch looked more like a bed when he arrived at the living room again. Shiro had settled a pillow and a duvet on top of it, and it looked comfy and warm. All of a sudden, he felt even more sleepy and broken down. The roses fluttered out from his mouth, tracing lazy spirals all the way down to the ground.

“There you go.” Shiro nodded towards the couch, and Keith went around the coffee table, closer to it. “Your bed - since you insist on not sleeping on the  _ actual  _ bed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Keith said, voice low, not quite ironic or anything. He already had his shoes off, and now it was just tucking into the couch. Second couch of Shiro’s he slept on in a week… Was this one Shiro’s, even?

“Good night, gentleman,” Shiro chuckled, walking over to switch off the lights. He didn’t look ready to sleep, though… Was he going to do it for Keith?

“Good night,” Keith answered, conscience drifting off before he even closed his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for the support you guys give me! It means so much!


	16. Chapter 16

There was something oddly magical about dawn. Not really all that odd, actually. Just spectacular and marvelous. The dawn in the desert was actually something else - alright alright, anyone who’s went to the beach and seen the sunrise from the ocean can agree that it’s a sight, but still. Keith simply had to appreciate the gorgeousness of the break of day.

When he woke up, senses back long before he opened his eyes, the sight beyond the window was like those pastel aesthetics. The sun was a baby yellow ball of gleaming warmth, reaching past the glass and warming up a stretch of his leg that had escaped from beneath the duvet. He thought his tossing was quiet, but he was mistaken when he heard the clambering in the kitchen, metal on metal and wood and glass and too many noises to stop and identify.

“Hey!” He heard Shiro, and soon enough his strong-jawed, tan face was peeking from the doorway to the kitchen. There was no door there, just the empty space. “Good morning! I was trying to, uh, make some breakfast out of the things you brought yesterday. I can’t really cook,” he smiled, dumbly, and looked down, cheeks flushing. Keith felt roses clambering up his trachea. “I’m hopeless.”

“You should meet my friend Hunk,” Keith slowly stood up from the couch, scrambling his way from beneath the duvet. It was really comfy and warm there, he noticed, and a cold breeze hit his ankles even if there were no windows or doors open. “I’m sure he’ll find something to do with you.”

“I don’t think so,” Shiro turned around and went back to the kitchen counter, leaving space for Keith to come and try to help. “Every time I’ve tried even microwaving some noodles, I ended up burning something. I said, I’m hopeless.”

“I’ll do the cooking then.” He shooed Shiro away, too tired to double take his actions. As usual, the flowers weren’t, and they kept coming at an awfully ever-present pace. 

Most of the known, or basic, breakfast recipes didn’t start with corn and potato chips and other unhealthy middle-of-the-day or even middle-of-the-night snacks, but Keith was sure he could find something to work with. It wouldn’t be anything good, but it’d be decent. He knew Hunk for long enough to know how to improvise a bit in the kitchen.

There was milk in the fridge - almost expired but  _ not yet  _ -, and one of the things he bought was a large pack of Oreo cookies. He found a couple of bananas in a basket inside a cupboard, and picked them after telling Shiro to not do that again. Fruit belong in cool places, not inside a cupboard for weeks.

He ended up feeling proud of himself for finding what to eat. There was no baking involved, but still, Shiro kept saying he’d end up burning some of the leftover Doritos. How.

After breakfast, the two of them sat in front of the TV and Shiro pulled out a very old video game console, whipping out old retro games to pass time with. Keith was feeling unbearably tired,  _ again  _ \- he was starting to think he had a fever or whatever, since he kept shivering and his mind was constantly complaining with exhaustion, but he wouldn’t dare ask Shiro to check. He could always blame things on Hanahaki, these days.

In the beginning, he was winning just fine. Yawning here and there, but still, he had enough practice in videogames to know every hack. It was going smoothly until his eyelids started weighing down. Shiro began getting ahead of him, but as much as Keith tried to find it, he was leaning back and to the side and losing control over his actions. He was more asleep than awake, and lost total conscience of what was going on quicker than he’d wish.

When he opened his eyes, the sight ahead of him was totally different. It was vertical, sort of - as if he was lying on his side, which his still mildly asleep brain processed right after. His head was on someone’s lap - so, Shiro’s. He was in the shack, as the wall and old TV in front of him clarified, and the only other person there with him was Shiro, so. Yeah. Shiro’s lap.

Lucky he managed to calm his mind before his lungs processed it. His brain was still all groggy and slow, so the message of ‘relax’ came before it demanded that his lungs and his flowers set free.

Keith tried to focus; tried to slow his brain into normal mode. He felt a lot better, he noticed; instead of irreparably tired, he felt cozy, comfy. Shiro was really warm. The room was lit yellow, not too light, not too deep. Mid-afternoon lighting. He’d slept for a while, then. Jeez, he was such a burden.

He was rummaging through his back-to-full-speed brain when something changed. He felt fingers playing with the curls of hair on his neck, the longer locks that got him teased for having a mullet. Fingers entwined and pushed and pulled, softly, at the strands of hair. It’s absolutely sweet, light, soft. Precious, even. He could only imagined what the scene looked like from the outside - dangerously domestic, probably. Trying to picture it, he reached too far and couldn’t hold back the roses that scared Shiro’s hand away.

Coughing and choking, Keith curled upon himself more than he was already doing, and pulled his hands to his chest in an almost defensive move. Still gently, Shiro helped him sit up, and it helped. Once the rose-coughing got better, Shiro patted him on the back lightly and smiled.

“Good afternoon, buddy.”

“‘Afternoon,” Keith tried, voice strained.

“You really blacked out on me. I got surprised I won once. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m fine.”

“I hope so. You did seem kind of ill, but now you look better.”

Keith only nodded, closing his eyes and letting the last rose roll from his tongue.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Shiro fixed his sitting position and tilted his head to the side as Keith brought his knees up to his chest, protective, “what do you think about heading back to campus soon? I can give you a ride but since you came here on your bike, I thought- I hope you don’t get the message that I’m trying to get rid of you, I was just- Gonna go, and didn’t want you to be alone.”

Shiro stuttering and stopping mid-sentence. That’s something Keith thought he would never see in all his life - the same person who could talk so confidently about  _ everything _ , speaking like that. Hm. Intimacy, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s alright. I should go, probably. Don’t worry, I know you’re too nice to kick someone out like that.”

Shiro rolled his eyes a bit, more in self-deprecation than contempt, but sighed. “Thanks.”

“Are  _ you  _ okay?” Keith asked, feeling like something was off. Not that he knew Shiro well enough to know what he was like normally, it was just this gut sensation, instinct, that something was wrong. You know?

“Yeah!” Shiro quickly smiled and reassured him, quite honestly. Keith felt like a burden, but he guessed it wasn’t quite true. Highlight the word  _ guessed  _ \- he couldn’t trust his own judgment of what someone else was feeling, could he?

“Well, I should go and try to get some study done,” he said after a short bit of silence, standing up and breaking the quiet, raw mood of the moment. It was nearing unsettling.

“Me too,” Shiro chuckled. “You go, I’m just gonna clean everything up and head back, too.”

“Do you want any help? Is there a lot to do?”

Shiro waved it off, smile truthfully pinned to his face. “Nah. I just gotta throw some things away. Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping-”

“I’m sure,” he cut Keith off. “You go study. Take care of yourself.”

Picking up his things from the coffee table, Keith smiled and nodded. “Thank you. You too.”

Quietly, heart hammering in his chest - God, he could swear he could feel the flutter of the flowers’ petals in the same rhythm of his heartbeat -, he slipped out of the shack and onto his motorbike, and then quickly onto the road back to college.

Weirdly enough, his mind felt rightfully empty. Maybe not empty, just clear. Like a white billboard, filled with everything around it but clear at the same time. Did that make sense? Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it didn’t have to.

His flowers waved in the air inside his lungs, and his hair whipped around his neck as the wind hit him in the face and turned his cheeks bright pink.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...double update

_ come over _

_ come overrr _

Keith slid his laptop off his lap, unlocking his phone and opening his conversation with Lance.

_ whadya want _

It didn’t take long for Lance to call him; Keith stood up and put the call on speaker, leaving the phone on his bedside table and standing in front of his wardrobe to choose a shirt better than the old Smash Bros tee that he was wearing.

“Sooo, come over?” Lance’s voice came from the phone, loud and clear. Keith sighed, rolled his eyes - no hello’s or how are you’s, as always. He’d gotten used to it, but still.

“We’re doing yoga!” Pidge said, a bit further away. That made Keith stick his head out from behind the wardrobe door, as if there was something for him to see. He chuckled and walked out from his spot, closer to the speaker.

“You’re doing yoga? Why  _ do  _ you want me to come?”

“One, Mullet, you walk around in yoga pants all the time,  _ please _ .”

Pidge giggled before replying, “Also, c’mon, Keith. It’s Saturday night. Do you have anything better to do?”

“I  _ bet _ he was doing his homework right before I texted him.”

Again, Keith rolled his eyes, even though Lance was right. He coughed a bit, rubbed his eyes and sighed, flopping down on the bed with a brand new shirt, grabbing his sneakers.

“Where are you guys?”

“My dorm,” Pidge answered, voice still faint.

“He's coming?” Hunk’s voice sounded even further away than Pidge’s, and their dorm was definitely not that big. Maybe he was in the hall… Or  something.

“Definitely. See ya’ in ten, Flowerboy!”

“Wait, what should I take-!”

Disappointed, but not surprised, Keith sighed and put his charger and laptop into his bag, checking his phone one last time. The sun was just beginning to set, so he still had plenty of time to spend with his friends. Finally, he picked up his keys and left.

 

-

 

Instead of being welcomed and invited in by the person to whom the room actually belonged, Keith was greeted by Lance in tight yoga pants and a tee that was worn out by the years.

“Mullet. Come in!”

“I didn't think you guys were actually doing yoga,” Keith nodded at the three people in the room and frowned as he plopped down on Pidge’s bed, staring at them while they looked for beginners’ yoga positions on Google, sitting on a blue mat. “I mean, Lance isn't that big of a shocker-”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

Keith raised a single eyebrow and flicked his gaze at Lance, “-but you usually just observe. I thought you'd be on my side this time. I mean, you always are.”

“Exactly, Keith. Learn to share.”

Hunk kissed the side of Lance's neck briefly as he crossed the room, sitting on the bed right next to Keith. He peeked over his shoulder and at the screen of the laptop Keith had just pulled open, and smiled.

“I haven't finished those exercises yet. Aren't they for like, Thursday?”

“Yup.”

Hunk patted Keith on the shoulder, sweet, reassuring and friendly. “Good move.”

“Wanna join?”

“Nah, I'm good watching. Thanks, though, bro.”

Both of them turned to look at the couple of dorks doing yoga - Lance was stretchy and managed to get into position easily, but Pidge was half trying to raise their leg correctly and half staring at the image trying to figure out  _ how.  _ Yeah, Keith was fine, thanks. He really didn't have anything better to do.

“Embrace it, you're the big nerd, Flowerboy.”

“You're not that much better yourself. Don't talk as if you're some frat-boy ladies-man.”

“I am committed, excuse you,” Lance stood and blew a kiss at Hunk, who grinned and blushed. “But still. At least I'm in a relationship and not-”

“Lance.” Pidge intervened, finally talking again after almost a minute of trying to understand the model. They'd given up, as any sane person would. “Come on, too far.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he raised his hands and glanced at Keith quickly. “I didn't mean it that way.”

“I know.” Keith gestured for Pidge to hand him the bottle of water, and they threw it at him to catch. He did, gracefully. “It's not a big deal - I  _ am  _ kind of a pussy towards the person I've got a crush on. Although certainly not as much as you think.”

“Oh?”

Pidge and Hunk were both as lost as one could be; they exchanged looks and sighed. “Is there anything we don't know about?” Hunk asked, and Keith replied before Lance could dream of doing so.

“Nope! You guys are perfectly caught up, don't worry, haha.”

Lance's blue eyes burned on Keith the words 'guilty’ and 'quick’, but he couldn't really care. As long as he didn't have to deal with how everyone would react to his huge crush on  _ Shiro  _ and how the universe conspires against him and in his favour simultaneously.

“Riiight,” Pidge said, pressing a single key on their laptop and advancing onto the next picture of a skinny white young woman doing yoga - the variety in stock photos, wow. “Lance, I think you like this one.”

“I do!” He giggled, and kneeled into the cat-cow. Hunk did his best not to stare, but Lance did want him to. Keith knew that was one of the simplest yoga poses of all, even if not as well-known as the downward dog, and why it wasn't the first one they did was beyond him. Or maybe they had done it already, but decided to do it again.

Keith sighed and went back to his homework, coughing a couple of perfect roses and scooping them into the trashcan before genuinely focusing.

His friends spent the entire night trying to get him to either do yoga with them or just let the laptop go and relax. He couldn’t, with the weight of the previous 24 hours melting pools of soft rose petals in his stomach and the pressure of stems squeezing his ribcage almost deadly so. Even after many,  _ many  _ approaches that varied completely from one another - from music he liked as background noise to food and other types of bribery -, Pidge, Hunk and Lance failed miserably in getting Keith to do anything but add to the conversation every once in awhile and finish his work.

Lance and Pidge were sitting on their yoga mats with their legs stretched out and soda cans in their hands after a few hours of playfulness. Pidge had basically given up after the fourth pose, so they ended up watching Lance show off his abilities. The windows were open because holy  _ hell  _ was it hot. Summer was nice, getting a break was pleasant and all, but heat and finals made the last few weeks living hell.

“Keith, get off that thing,” Pidge asked, voice low. Lance was pressing his soda can to his forehead, trying to cool off, but seeming to fail in doing so.

“I’m working. And what  _ right- _ ”

Before he could work out some sassy retort, Lance snapped the laptop closed, almost catching both of Keith’s hands in the process.

“You’re really testing our patience, Jesus Christ. Just- Just be social for once, okay?”

“I am.”

Hunk snorted, then smiled affectionately at Keith. “You’re not.”

“We totally get it, y’know. Besides finals stress, you have the surgery coming up soon, and you don’t have running as an outlet… But putting up walls isn’t gonna help you,” Lance said, voice soft and worried.

“I hate how emotionally smart you guys are,” Keith sighed. Even if they didn’t know that he was having to deal with the pain of not being enough, feeling the flowers in his lungs even spending time with Shiro, his friends were going to try to make him feel good about whatever stressful things they could help with. He put the computer on the bed, clearing his lap, and let his hands drop there. He was fidgeting, just a little bit, but he had the right to be nervous.

“We love you, too.” Hunk nudged him in the ribs, and Keith choked out malformed roses. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. But hey, uh, thanks. There’s a lot going on and I- Yeah. I need to learn to deal with things, but that I’m a mess you three already know.”

“Tell us about it,” Pidge smiled. They were a bit quiet, being impulsive and lacking a bit of emotional maturity themself. Keith and them were equal in many different aspects; maybe that’s one of the reasons why the two of them were best friends.

Finally, he grinned, “Thanks.”

“‘Welcs, Mullet. Do you want some soda?”

Keith relaxed for the next hour, letting the chatter drown away his responsibilities and stress. His work was finished early, he didn’t have any more studying to do for the day. It was Saturday night, what better did he have to do?


End file.
